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A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 


A   SAUSAGE    FROM 
BOLOGNA 

Jt  (Comeby  in  JFour  J^cte 

BY 
JOHN    JAY    CHAPMAN 


I 


For  aught  that  I  could  ever  read, 

Could  ever  read  by  tale  or  history, 

The  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth. 

»A  MIDSUMMER  NIGHt's  DREAM 


NEW    YORK 

MOFFAT,    YARD    &    CO. 

1909 


COPYRIGHT,  1909,  BY  JOHN  JAY  CHAPMAN 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED  BY  THE  AUTHOR 
INCLUDING  RIGHT  OF  STAGE  PRODUCTION 


D.  B.  UPDIKE,  THE  MERRYMOUNT  PRESS,  BOSTON 


DEDICATED  TO  THE  CLASS  OF  '84 
HARVARD 


SCENE 
Bologna 

Act  I 

Scene  1.  A  Room  in  the  Inn. 
Scene  2.  The  Countess's  Boudoir. 

Act  II 
The  Countess's  Drawing-room. 

Act  III 
Scene  1.  A  Room  in  the  Inn. 
Scene  2.  The  Countess's  Boudoir. 

Act  IV 

Scene  1.  The  Corridor  outside  the 
Countess's  Drawing-room. 

Scene  2.  The  Countess's  Drawing- 
room. 


CHARACTERS 

Hector  Bononcini^  a  young  man  who  returns  from  his 
travels,  leaving  his  betrothed,  Donna  Julia,  in  Paris. 

Andrea,  his  servant. 

GlACOMO  'I 

three  of  his  early  friends.  Giacomo  is  be- 
trothed to  Lucia. 

RuFREDO 

Prince  Stephen  Teleky,  a  young  Hungarian  noble- 
man. 

CoNTEssA  BoNONCiNi,  «  distant  cousin  of  Hector  s. 

Angela 

1-  her  nieces.  Lucia  is  betrothed  to  Giacomo. 
Lucia 


} 

-IT.PTTVTT  "^ 

friends  of  the  Countess. 


Abbe  PANDOt.PiNi  'j 

Signor  Sarragossa  J  ■ 

BoBO  Sarragossa,  son  of  Signor  Sarragossa. 

HippoLiTo,  servant  of  the  Countess. 

Cavaliere  Protocopoli        ^ 

ry  /-I  I  members  of  a  benevolent 

CONTE  GlUSTI  I  „    ,     , 

y  society  called  the  Apos- 
Commandante  Frescobaldi     ^j^^  ^j.^^^  p^^^ 

Signor  Donato  j 

Donna  Julia,  a  widow,  betrothed  to  Hector. 

Matteo,  servant  to  the  Abbe. 

LuiGi,  an  inn-keeper. 

Officers  of  the  Police  and  Guardians  of  the  Peace 


ACT  I 

SCENE  FIRST 
A  Room  in  the  Inn 

Enter,  as  from  a  journey.  Hector  and  Andrea  his  ser- 
vant; Luigi,  the  innkeeper,  conducting  them. 

XlECTOR  {to  Luigi).  No  announcement,  mind  you! 

Show  them  in. 
Tell  them  his  excellency  waits  for  them. 
No  better  room  than  this?  There,  get  you  gone! 

[Exit  Luigi. 

Andrea.  It  is  his  best,  my  master.  Ah,  my  heart ! 

Hector.  And  has  not  suffered  sweeping  since  I  knew 
it. 

Andrea.  The  very  bedposts,  chairs  and  candlesticks! 
The  very  smell !  The  fat  old  innkeeper — 
I  almost  took  the  rascal  in  my  arms — 
That  villainous  old  Luigi.  Ah,  signor, 
Bologna  has  not  changed.  Even  at  the  gate 
My  heart  was  all  a-flutter;  every  street, 
Column  and  courtyard,  statue,  niche,  fa^de, 
Nodding  a  welcome  to  her  sons  again. 
Your  honour  does  permit  me  to  shed  tears.? 

Hector.  Not  on  your  life,  you  wily  crocodile! 

[  1  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

You  will  betray  me.  Wait  till  supper  time. 
Some  gentlemen  are  coming  here  to  meet  me. 

Andrea.  Gentlemen? 

Hector.  Friends  of  my  boyhood,  comrades,  school- 
fellows. 
I  have  not  seen  them  for  this  fourteen  years, 
When  they  and  I  were  at  a  baby-school 
Before  I  went  to  France.  Control  your  tears 
And  you  shall  see  some  sport.  I  sent  them  word 
The  Mayor  of  Paris,  coming  to  Bologna, 
Was  pleased  to  have  them  call. 

Enter  Luigi  with  a  large  register. 
Luigi.  His  excellence  will  deign  to  write  his  name? 
The  city  laws  are  strict  — 

Hector  {knocks  the  book  from  his  hand).  Get  down, 
I  say! — 
You'll  learn  my  name  and  title  soon  enough, — 
And  show  the  signors  up  immediately. 

\^Ptishes  him  out.  Exit  Luigi. 
Andrea  {producing  a  small  packet).  Forgive  me, 
master.  'T  is  a  sacred  trust. 
In  Paris,  ere  we  parted,  Donna  Julia 
Charged  me,  with  tears,  that  I  should  give  you  this 
Upon  our  first  arrival  in  Bologna. 

[2] 


ACT  FIRST 

Hector  {taking  packet).  She  thinks  I  flee  her;  but  I 
fly  to  her. 
The  jealous  angel!  Why,  it  is  for  her 
I  make  this  stupid  journey.  It's  for  her, 
My  Julia,  my  sweet,  petulant,  fond  girl! 

Andrea.  Yes,  signor,  but  she  is  a  widow. 

Hector.  What's  that.?  What's  that  to  you,  Diogenes.? 

Andrea.  Widows  lack  confidence. 

Hector.  Then  give  them  love. 

I  could  not  love  her  more  were  she  a  maid. 

Andrea.  She  is  a  widow;  she  will  follow  you. 

Hector.  Follow  she  may,  but  find  me  she  shall  not 

Before  I  end  my  business  in  this  town. 

Go  and  unpack. 

[Exit  Andrea^  and  enter  Luigi,  showing  in  Gia- 
como,  Pietro  and  Rnjredo. 

Luigi  (in  a  whisper).  It  is  a  madman !  Have  a  care, 

your  worships. 

Hector  (places  three  armchairs  Jbr  them,  and  they 

sit).  Serene  and  noble  gentles  of  Bologna, 

Who  stand  amazed  that  your  deeds  should  live 

And  cover  France  with  knowledge  of  your  names, — 

Shaking  her  lilies  with  your  windy  fame, — 

Know  that  I  too  was  born  in  Italy. 

[3] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

Sit  while  I  tell  you  something  of  myself. 

Pietro  (to  Giacomo).  This  is  some  charlatan  whose 
tale  will  end 
With  a  request  we  buy  a  box  of  pills. 
I  will  be  off.  (To  Hector.)  Adieu,  Polichinelle. 

Giacomo.  Nay,  stay;  it  is  the  latest  thing  from 
France. 
What  more  amusing  pastime  could  we  find? 

Riifredo.  We  are  the  dupes  of  an  impertinence. 

Giacomo.  Then  stay  and  reap  the  sport. 

Hector.  I  was  a  scholar  of  some  little  note 
Before  the  down  had  blossomed  on  my  lip. 

Pietro.  What's  that  to  us? 

Giacomo.  Faster,  old  boy. 

Hector.  In  old  Filelfo's  school — {They  manifest  in- 
terest; rise,  crowd  about  Hector,  examining  him  closely.) 

Pietro.  Filelfo's  school! 

Giacomo.  Who  is  it?  Who  is  it? 

Rnfredo.  Who  are  you,  in  the  name  of  Satan  ? 

Hector.  Do  you  not  know  me — Hector  Bononcini? 

(Great  excitement  and  shouts  of  ^^ Hector,  Hector.^'' 
Hector  embraces  them  and  kisses  each  one  on  both 
cheeks,  all  of  them  talking  at  once.) 

Rufredo.  But  are  you  Mayor  of  Paris?  (Laughter.) 

[4] 


ACT  FIRST 

Hector.  Yes,  of  Paris  and  of  Baghdad  and  the  out- 
lying provinces.  Some  few  I  cannot  attend  to  person- 
ally, but  I  farm  them  out.  Now  what  say  you?  Wine? 
{Rings  the  bell.  Enter  Luigi.  To  Luigi.)  Wine! 

Pietro  {to  Luigi).  Wine,  you  rascal ! 

Ritfredo  {to  Luigi).  Wine! — do  you  hear? 

Luigi  {aside).  He  has  affected  them  all.  {Aloud.) 
Immediately,  your  worships. 

Pietro.  Come,  tell  us  some  tittle,  some  wee  morsel 
of  truth, — two  words.  How  did  you  come?  Where  did 
you  come  from?  Are  you  going  to  stay? 

Rufredo.  Why  do  you  conceal  yourself? 

Giacomo.  Are  you  flying  from  justice? 

Pietro.  Or  from  injustice? 

Rufredo.  In  love? 

Giacomo.  In  debt? 

Hector.  Listen!  I  am  come  to  you  in  a  serious  crisis 
of  my  affairs.  As  for  the  history  of  all  my  adventures 
since  leaving  Bologna — 

Pietro.  Spare  us,  spare  us!  One  wee  morsel  of  truth 
is  all  I  beg. 

Hector.  It  has  become  necessary  for  me  to  revisit 
my  native  land,  and  to  revisit  it  in  disguise.  As  to  what 
disguise — 

[5] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

Pietro.  If  you  go  disguised  as  an  honest  man  you 
will  get  found  out  immediately. 

Giacomo.  Better  set  up  as  a  thief. 

Hector.  I  think  of  turning  actor. 

All.  Bravo! 

Hector.  But  you  must  wait.  I  have  a  friend  to  in- 
troduce to  you,  the  dearest  friend  I  made  in  all  my 
travels.  He  is,  I  find,  by  some  divine  accident,  study- 
ing music  in  Bologna,  and  I  have  sent  for  him.  (Enter 
Luigi,  showing  in  Teleky.  To  TeleTiy.)  Ah,  Stephen, 
to  think  of  my  finding  you  in  Bologna!  My  friends, 
Prince  Stephen  Teleky — Signor  Pietro  Sanguardi, 
Signor  Giacomo  dei  Gatti,  Signor  Rufredo  Dolci.  {All 
the  me7i  bowjbrrnally.) 
(To  TeleJcy,  whose  hand  he  is  still  holding.)  They  are 

my  earliest  friends;  indeed  my  palm 
Was  locked  in  theirs  almost  in  babyhood. 

Teleky.  Hector  and  I  have  long  been  bosom  friends. 
A  few  short  dizzy  weeks  of  rapid  youth 
Did  leave  us  brothers;  since  which  time  I  have 
Longed  to  call  his  friends  mine.  {Teleky  shakes  hands 

with  the  three.) 
{To  Hector.)  Hector,  I  have  obeyed  your  mystic  call 
Which  trumpeted  from  the  romantic  world 

[6] 


ACT  FIRST 

You  ever  walk  in.  If  it  finds  me  sad  — 

Hector.  We'll  study  how  to  dissipate  the  clouds. 

Here 's  to  our  meeting !  ( The  wine  has  been  brought  in ; 
they  drink.) 

This  congress  from  the  corners  of  the  world 

Has  deep  importance  and  immediate  work. 

{They  sit  down.  Hector  takes  from  a  portmanteau  a 
package  of  papers  zvrapped  in  black  oil-cloth  and 
hands  out  documents  as  he  proceeds.) 

I  had  an  uncle,  an  eccentric  sage, 

Rich,  old  and  foolish.  Now,  this  uncle  dies, 

And  leaves  a  fortune.  There,  behold  the  will, — 

A  lawyer's  letter.  But  I  should  begin 

By  telling  you  this  uncle  had  a  niece, 

AJready  rich  herself,  a  proud  young  girl 

Who  has  refused  a  hundred  proper  men, 

And  is  a  problem  to  her  family. 

And  all  these  people  are  some  kin  to  me. 

Pompous  provincials  and  the  kind  of  folk 

I  knew  that  I  should  meet  in  Purgatory, 

But  trusted  not  before. 

Giacomo  (to  Teleky).  You  know  him,  sir. 

And  know  his  way  of  talking.  He  has  not 

Seen  his  kind  cousins  for  some  fourteen  years. 

Here  in  Bologna  they  are  much  esteemed, 

[7] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

And  I  myself — 

Hector.  Pray,  do  not  interrupt. 

This  uncle,  being  inspired  by  the  devil, 
Who  teaches  dying  men  to  sting  mankind, 
Bequeaths  his  fortune  to  this  girl  and  me 
In  equal  shares,  provided,  yes,  of  coui'se, — 
Witness  the  crafty  malice  of  the  thing, — 
Provided  she  and  I  will  make  a  match. 

Teleky.  Is  it  a  common  thing  in  Italy? 

Hector.  Most  common.  A  fantastic  insolence 
Is  usual  in  our  wills.  A  living  man 
Scruples  to  couple  up  his  relatives 
With  bribes  of  money.  But  a  man  once  dead 
Dares  anything.  The  worst  is  yet  to  come. 
If  one  of  us,  the  victims  of  his  choice. 
If  either  of  us  marries — 
The  first  to  marry  loses  the  estate, 
The  other  taking  all.  We  must  be  lovers. 
Or,  loving  elsewhere,  cut  each  other's  throats. 

Pietro.  Marry  the  maid;  it  is  the  easiest  way. 

Hector.  I  do  not  even  wish  to  see  the  girl. 
Who  is,  they  say,  so  opposite  to  marriage 
That  she  does  bite  all  suitors. 

Pietro.  Perhaps  she  waits  for  you. 

[8] 


ACT  FIRST 

Hector.  It  is  my  fear. 

I  fear  she  may  design  to  snap  me  up, 
And  hold  the  fortune. 

Pietro.  Hang  her,  let  her  go ! 

Hector.  So  have  I  done,  nor  given  a  thought  to  her 
Till — here,  my  friends,  begins  a  confidence — 
I  fell  in  love  myself.  Now  all  is  said. 
I  cannot  wed  before  this  maid  be  wed. 
A  lovely  girl  in  early  widowhood 
Now  holds  my  heart  in  France.  Her  only  fault 
Is  a  most  blind  and  senseless  jealousy. 
Is  any  woman  named,  she  sees  a  rival; 
And  therefore  dared  I  not  explain  to  her 
My  business  in  Bologna. 

Giacomo.  Very  wise ! 

Hector.  A  business  delicate  and  intricate, — 
To  marry  off  my  cousin,  and  win  her. 

Giacomo.  To  win  the  fortune,  rather. 

Hector.  Yes,  of  course; 

For  without  fortune,  who  can  safely  wed.'^ 

Giacomo.  O  wise  young  bachelor! 

Hector.  Nay,  hear  me  out. 

My  Julia  follows  me  upon  the  heel. 
I  know  she  follows  me.  I  need  disguise, 

[9] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

Or  this  infatuate  widow  will  undo  me. 

Giacomo.  She  would  not  trust  you  on  an  embassy 
So  supernaturally  delicate 
As  helping  find  a  husband  for  an  heiress. 
Hector.  Something  like  that. 

Giacomo.  Despair,  young  man,  despair ! 

Your  cousin  is  the  fury  of  Bologna, 
A  sour,  merciless  maid.  I  know  her  well. 

Hector.  Till  I  have  seen  her  I  will  not  despair. 
I  need  a  name  to  reach  her  drawing-room. 
Stephen,  how  long  have  you  been  in  Bologna.? 

TeleTiy.  Scarcely  a  month. 

Hector.  What  people  have  you  seen.? 

Teleky.  People.?  No,  none.  I  lead  a  hermit's  life. 

Hector.  Now,  Stephen,  by  your  leave,  I'll  take  your 
name. 
Had  you  no  letters  to  your  father's  friends  ? 

Teleky.  Letters? — why,  yes;  but  being  out  of  sorts 
I've  not  delivered  them. 

Hector.  Where  are  those  letters.? 

Teleky.  Why,  at  my  rooms. 

Hector.  Letters  of  introduction ! 

I'll  visit  my  inspiring  relatives 
Under  the  aegis  of  your  documents; 

[   10   ] 


ACT  FIRST 

For  my  disguise  will  serve  a  double  end. 
Hector,  disguised  as  prince,  can  manage  much 
Which  Hector  by  himself,  and  Hector  known, 
Could  not  lay  hand  to.  In  my  natural  self 
I  am  a  dullard  and  a  kind  of  drone. 
But  in  the  semblance  of  another  man 
My  faculties  grow  quick  as  mercury, 
And  every  wheel  in  fortune's  whirligig 
Obeys  my  will.  I'll  engineer  a  match 
To  rid  me  of  this  saucy  Angela, 
And  leave  me  rich. 

Pietro.  An  inspiration! 

Giacomo.  There  will  be  sport  in  this,  more  than  you 
know! 

Hector  (to  Teleky).  Come,  you  are  moody.  Do  you 
see  a  flaw? 
'Tis  nothing  to  the  pranks  we  played  in  Pesth. 

Teleky.  I  would  not  that  my  moods 
Made  discords  to  your  mirth.  And  yet,  good  friend, 
I  am  grown  wise;  and  since  you  saw  me  last 
Have  eaten  bitter  herbs. 
Take  me  for  what  I  am;  but  bid  me  not 
Engage  mine  honour  in  an  escapade. 

Hector.  Not  for  the  world.  {Takes  Teleky  aside  while 

[  11  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

the  others  shrug  shoulders  and  talk  together  in 
dumb-show.)  There  is  some  mystery? 

Telehy.  I  left  my  home  in  Hungary  last  year, 
Not  in  disgrace,  but  in  a  kind  of  fog, — 
The  not  unkind  oblivion  that  descends 
On  youths  who  burn  the  candle  at  both  ends ; 
A  timely  disappearance, — but  to  me 
It  brought  remorse,  repentance,  cutting  shame 
And  horror  of  myself.  But  'tis  not  this.  {A  pause.) 
Could  you  but  feel  one  moment's  reverence — {Hector 

takes  his  hand.) 
The  music  that  now  keeps  me  in  Bologna 
Was  never  drawn  from  mortal  instrument. 

Hector.  Ye  gods,  he  is  in  love ! 

Teleky.  But  four  days  since, 

The  streets  were  crazy  with  the  carnival, — 
Buffeting  cries  and  colours  in  the  air 
Smote  on  my  griefs  all  day.  I  watched  them  out, 
The  saddest  figure  in  Bologna's  streets. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  I  found  myself 
Beneath  a  balcony,  nor  can  I  tell 
How  long  I  had  been  gazing,  for  she  seemed 
To  answer  with  a  glance,  unconsciously. 
The  stream  my  soul  was  sending  up  to  hers. 
She  looked  away,  and  with  her  finger-tips 

[    12   ] 


ACT  FIRST 

A  rose  that  lay  upon  the  balustrade 
Edged  to  its  downfall.  Then  we  both  awoke, 
Not  knowing  what  had  happened, — I  to  doubt 
If  it  were  accident  that  gave  me  this.  {Showing  a  with- 
ered rose.) 

Hector.  No  accident;  but  an  Italian  girl, 
Who  knows  the  use  of  carnivals  and  flowers, 
Lives  in  the  realm  of  downright  poesy 
Which  other  nations  soar  to.  She  is  right, 
And  you  a  mystic  and  absurd  recluse. 
You  should  have  laughed  and  kissed  your  hand  to  her. 

Teleky.  No  more  than  this.'' 

Hector.  No  more.?  How  can  I  tell.? 

You  have  not  seen  her  since.? 

Teleky.  No.  Yes,  and  no. 

I  saw  her  in  the  street;  and  at  a  ball. 
To  which  I  followed  her  incognito 
Through  a  friend's  kindness, — but  I  was  not  known; 
Watched  her  the  evening  through,  and  at  the  end, 
With  hand  and  eyes  saluted  silently. 

Hector.  But  not  a  word.? 

Teleky.  A  word, — a  word  or  two 

Beside  the  carriage  door. 

Hector.  Who  is  the  girl.? 

[   13] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Teleky.  Her  name  is  Angela. 

Hector.  And  her  address? 

Teleky.  Via  dei  Quattro  Santi,  venti  sette. 

Hector.  It  is  the  girl, — ye  gods,  it  is  the  girl! 

Teleky.  What  girl? 

Hector.  My  foe,  the  shrew,  my  heiress  cousin. 

Teleky.  It  cannot  be;  she  is  a  heavenly  fount 

Of  gentleness  and  love. 

Hector.  It  is,  it  is! 

Teleky.  It  cannot  be. 

Hector.  Of  course.  But  if  it  is? 

{Giacomo,  Pietro  and  Rufredo  have  overheard  Hec- 
tor's  exclamations,  and  have  caught  the  drift  of  the 
conversation  which  they  are  following  with  eager- 
ness. They  have  approached  Hector  and  Teleky.) 

Giacomo.  Now  in  the  name  of  Moses  and  the  saints, 

Give  me  one  moment's  notice  all  of  you ; 

For  none  of  you  can  guess  the  rampant  game 

That  fate  unwinds  us  into.  Know  that  I 

Am  now  affianced  to  the  sweet  Lucia, 

Sister  to  Angela  the  celibate. 

Half  of  my  days  are  spent  with  both  these  girls, 

And  with  the  aunt  who  is  their  guardian, 

A  dear  old  countess,  who  in  sheer  despair 

Over  our  marriage-hating  Angela 

[   14  ] 


ACT  FIRST 

Builds  all  her  hope  on  Hector.  Hector  now 

Is  come  to  save  us!  Hector  is  the  word 

Opening  all  doors  that  lead  to  Angela. 

A  Hector  we  must  have, — must  have.  But  how.? 

Listen,  the  thing  is  plain :  If  Teleky 

Will  lend  his  name  to  Hector,  Hector  must 

Lend  his  to  Teleky. 

Hector.  But  let  me  see. 

I  thought  to  disappear  without  a  trace, 
Not  leave  a  living  dumni}'  in  my  place 
To  show  my  trail — 

Giacomo.  A  Hector  we  must  have! 

Hector  {to  Telehy).  Have  you  a  mind  to  see  the  girl 
again  ? 

Telehy.  If  it  be  she,  to  reach  her  I  consent 
To  go  through  torture  and  imprisonment. 

Giacomo.  The  thing  is  done !  You  shall  be  taken  in 
Where  only  angels  and  domestics  walk, 
And  see  her  every  day  and  all  day  long. 

Hector.  To  help  a  friend  I  do  it. 

Giacomo.  I'll  launch  you  both  upon  the  drawing- 
room, 
Then  seek  the  pantry  to  let  laughter  loose. 

Hector  {giving  the  package  of  papers  to  TeleTiy). 

[  15] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Stephen,  take  these;  they  are  your  sailing  papers. 
And  send  me  yours  at  once. 
You  have  a  uniform  among  your  traps.? — 
One  of  those  gorgeous  and  ancestral  things 
That  you  Hungarians  wear — 

Teleliy.  Why,  yes, — why,  yes  — 

Hector.  I  need  it.  Send  it  round. 

Ah!  one  thing  more.  To  make  me  quite  complete, 
Here  register, — Prince  Stephen  Teleky, — 
You  are,  you  see,  a  guest  within  the  inn; 
Sign  on  the  lower  line — so.  Very  good.  {Teleky  signs.) 
Good  friends,  good-bye.  I  have  a  role  to  play 
And  must  reflect.  You  great  Hungarians 
Are  often  artists,  patrons  of  the  arts 
And  men  of  mind  ? 

Teleliy.  My  uncle  Ladislas 

Has  fifty  pieces  in  his  orchestra. 
And  leads  the  band  himself. 

Hector.  The  very  type! — 

The  type  I  have  in  mind,  and  may  adopt. 
Perhaps  I  shall  regenerate  the  stage, 
Collect  a  troupe  of  noble  amateurs, 
And  shake  up  Hamlet,  Lear  and  Aeschylus. 
Prepare  for  something  learned  and  sublime. 

[16] 


ACT  FIRST 

SCENE  SECOND 

The  Countess's  Boudoir 

Angela  and  Lucia. 

Lucia,  Really,  sister  Angela,  you  are  incorrigible. 
You  flirt  with  young  Sarragossa,  and  you  mean  no- 
thing by  it. 

Angela.  I  do  not  flirt  with  young  Sarragossa.  He  is 
a  good,  harmless  youth,  and  a  friend  of  mine. 

Lucia.  But  your  intentions  are  not  serious,  are  not 
honourable. 

Angela.  His  father  has  made  a  great  quantity  of 
excellent  macaroni;  and  it  annoys  my  snobbish  aunt 
that  I  should  flirt  with  Bobo.  That  is  simple,  is  it  not.? 
Oh,  it  is  all  very  well  for  you,  who  have  no  complica- 
tions in  your  life !  You  have  your  Giacomo.  Two  love 
birds, — you  have  your  cage  and  your  seeds.  But  I  am 
the  heiress,  and  I  must  be  hawked  about  and  talked 
about.  No  romance  for  me!  No  long  good-nights;  no 
letters,  pressed  into  the  hand;  no  early  walks  and  late 
meetings  and  all  the  sweet,  mystical  telegraphy  be- 
tween times.  Everything  in  the  open !  Everything  flat 
and  worldly!  Oh,  Lucia,  dear,  I  will  try  to  be  good, 
and  not  break  Bobo's  heart;  but  you  must  bear  with 
me. 

[  17] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM  BOLOGNA 

Lucia.  Indeed,  I  feel  for  you,  Angela;  but  your  time 
will  come.  I  felt  it  at  the  carnival. 

Angela.  Ah,  what  a  sad  time  that  carnival!  Every 
street  lass  with  her  lover,  parading  herself  before  my 
eyes.  And  within  my  heart,  famine!  Now  comes  this 
dreadful  cousin  from  abroad  to  inspect  me, — a  pro- 
fligate, a  mountebank,  a  spendthrift,  a  traducer  of 
women,  a  cold-blooded,  calculating,  selfish  wanderer, 
who  has  lived  for  many  years  in  Paris, —  and  he  must 
look  me  over. 

Lucia.  But  you  can  refuse  him.  You  and  he  are 
treated  alike  in  the  will.  If  you  marry  someone  else, 
he  gets  all  the  money ;  if  he  marries  someone  else,  you 
get  all  the  money. 

Angela.  I  don't  want  the  money.  I  don't  want  to 

refuse  him.  I  don't  want  to  see  him.  I  cannot  tell 

whether  I  want  him  or  not,  by  such  methods;  nor  can 

he  tell  whether  he  wants  me  or  not.  "Mr.  Profligate,  let 

me  introduce  Miss  Fortune."  Behold  two  damnable, 

selfish  hypocrites  facing  each  other;  and  marriage  the 

question!  Is  it  not  base?  Is  it  not  degraded?  Does  it 

not  desecrate  and  chill  and  defile?  I  had  rather  climb 

into  a  man's  chamber,  and  meet  him  on  the  footing 

of  a  human  being,  than  face  him  in  the  parlour  in  the 

guise  of  upholstery  and  documents. 

[   18  ] 


ACT   FIRST 

Lucia.  For  Heaven''s  sake,  Angela,  you  must  not  talk 
in  this  way.  You  make  me  tremble.  I  had  something 
to  tell  you,  but  I  am  afraid. 

Angela.  Let  them  not  count  on  me!  Aunt  Teresa 
was  a  Palavicini  and  she  man-ied  a  Bononcini;  and 
she  killed  him  with  explaining  the  difference, — the 
difference  between  cini  and  cini.  Such  people  have  no 
children — they  deserve  none.  Let  them  nurse  their 
coats  of  arms. 

LiLcia.  Aunt  Teresa  has  been  almost  a  mother  to 
you,  Angela,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  you  should  bear 
with  her  infirmities.  It  is  the  dearest  wish  of  her  heart 
that  you  should  marry  this  cousin ;  but  she  has  never 
harassed  you. 

Angela.  Forgive  me,  my  blessed  sister,  I  will  try. 

Lucia  {kneeling).  Promise  you  will  be  wise. 

Angela.  Why,  my  beautiful  Lucia,  who  can  pro- 
mise that  in  this  world? 

Lucia  {in  a  stage  whisper^  holding  out  a  letter).  The 
star-gazer! 

Angela  {does  not  understarid). 

Lucia  {as  before).  At  the  carnival! 

Angela  {still  does  not  understand). 

Lucia.  At  the  ball! 

[  19] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

Angela  {seizes  the  paper  and  reads  it  with  emotion), 

Lticia.  Ah,  sister,  may  I  not  see  it  too?  (Reads.) 

Musing,  he  stood  beneath  the  palace  wall 

And  watched  the  joy  that  made  his  eyes  grow  dim; 

The  tumult  of  the  happy  carnival 

That  brought  no  face,  no  voice,  no  joy  to  him. 

Alas!  A  rose  has  fluttered  to  his  feet. 

O  life  and  death!  But  roses  yet  are  sweet. 

Lost  is  the  past,  the  future  not  yet  found. 

As  in  a  trance  he  wanders,  seeing  not; 

Like  one  who,  walking  on  enchanted  ground. 

Forgets  the  steps  that  brought  him  to  the  spot; 

But,  as  the  dimness  falls  upon  his  eyes. 

He  knows  his  soul  has  entered  paradise. 

Ajigela.  Is  it  of  me  that  he  is  thinking?  We  stood 
together. 

Lucia.  He  is  thinking  of  the  rose.  I  threw  him  no 
rose. 

Angela.  True. 

Lucia.  At  the  ball  he  spoke  to  you,  not  to  me. 

Angela.  True. 

Lucia.  Had  he  not  looked  so  sad,  I  should  not  have 
delivered  it.  {Angela  kisses  her.)  Had  he  not  looked 

[20] 


ACT  FIRST 

so, — so  sincere  {Angela  hisses  Jier) — so  true  {Angela 
kisses  her) — so  noble,  so  beautiful — {Angela  kisses  her 
many  times  and  almost  with  violence.)  He  is  clearly  a 
poet,  and  therefore  to  be  trusted;  otherwise  I  should 
never  have  delivered  the  letter.  But  you  will  be  wise. 

Angela.  As  wise  as  birds  that  trust  the  dulcet  spring, 
Or  fishes  that  leap  back  into  the  sea; 
True  to  their  natures,  wise  in  everything — 
So  true,  so  wise,  my  lover  findeth  me. 

Lucia.  Too  fast,  too  fast.  You  will  betray  every- 
thing. {A  little  King  Charles  lap-dog  runs  across  the 
stage.)  Here  comes  auntie.  You  must  keep  up  your 
shrewishness  or  we  are  lost. 

Angela.  Never  fear.  Crossness  fits  me  like  an  old  coat. 

Enter  the  Contessa. 

Contessa.  Good  morning,  my  dears.  Have  you  seen 
Fifi.?  That  dreadful  tom-cat  next  door  is  a  great  dan- 
ger to  her,  and  I  cannot  find  her. 

Lucia.  Fifi  was  here  a  moment  since. 

Contessa.  But  sit  down.  I  must  talk  to  you  both. 
Angela,  my  love,  you  must  be  calm,  for  the  news  con- 
cerns you.  Hector  Bononcini  has  left  Paris.  He  is  in 
Bologna,  and  he  is  coming  to  pay  his  respects  this 
afternoon. 

[21   ] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

Angela.  Hector  Bononcini.  He  is  my  ringmaster; 
I  must  dance  to  his  whip, 

Contessa.  You  are  absurd,  Angela,  I  must  receive 
him.  My  house  has  always  been  open  to  members  of 
your  uncle's  family.  I  determined  when  I  mairied 
that  I  would  make  no  class  distinctions.  And  the  situa- 
tion demands  that  we  should  all  meet  here.  It  is  my 
duty.  I  am  the  custodian  of  these  walls  and  of  the 
family  traditions. 

Angela.  Yes,  aunt. 

Contessa.  I  am  sure  that  Hector  is  a  young  man  of 
breeding,  and  that  nothing  will  ensue  to  make  me  re- 
gret this  reception  of  him  on  an  intimate, — at  least 
on  a  friendly  basis.  This  meeting  will  be  painful  to  you, 
as  it  will  be  to  me.  But  it  must  be  gone  through  with. 

Angela.  I  shall  endeavour  to  do  my  duty,  aunt. 
Must  I  wear  my  blue  dress,  so  that  he  may  judge  of 
my  arms.'' 

Enter  Hippolito^  and  hands  a  letter  on  a  tray  to  the 

Contessa. 

HippoUto.  The  gentleman  will  pay  his  respects  this 
afternoon.  [Exit  HippoUto. 

Contessa.  Dear  me,  Prince  Teleky.  This  is  a  note 
from  Giacomo,  introducing  Stephen  Teleky.  It  is  the 

[  22  ] 


ACT  FIRST 

first  family  in  Hungary,  my  dears.  The  young  prince 
has  come  to  Bologna  to  study  music.  Now,  Angela,  I 
have  but  one  request  to  make  of  you, — that  you  will 
treat  him  with  decent  civility.  His  father  is  an  old 
friend  of  mine. 

Angela.  Does  he  come  with  an  offer  of  man'iage  to  me .? 

Contessa.  Nonsense,  child.  He  does  n't  come  to  you 
at  all,  but  to  me. 

Angela.  Then  I  will  treat  him  as  a  friend,  auntie. 
You  shall  have  no  fault  to  find  with  me.  Is  he  old .? 

Contessa.  How — old  ? 

Angela.  Does  he  belong  in  my  kindergarten,  with 
Bobo  Sarragossa,  or  in  your  kindergarten,  with  Papa 
Sarragossa.f' 

Contessa.  Angela,  you  allow  yourself  liberties.  Si- 
gner Sarragossa  is  a  very  respectable  man,  and  an  old 
friend  of  your  uncle's. 

Angela.  And  an  old  friend  of  my  aunt's.  Why  should 
all  the  talk  be  of  my  pretendants.?  Signer  Sarragossa 
is  devoted  to  you,  auntie. 

Contessa.  Nonsense,  child.  He  knows  his  position 
too  well  to  venture.  My  grandfather  bought  pigs  from 
his  uncle. 

Angela.  I  suppose  that  to  hiy  pigs  is  a  sign  of  no- 

[23] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

bility;  but  to  sell  pigs  is  canaille.  Auntie,  if  you  talk 
like  that,  I  shall  elope  with  Bobo, 

Lucia.  If  you  do,  the  Abbe  Pandolfini  will  catch 
you.  He  has  every  intrigue  in  Bologna  by  heart  before 
it  has  occurred. 

Angela.  That  Abbe  is  a  sneak. 

Hippolito  {announcing).  Signor  Bobo  Sarragossa. 

Enter  Bobo  (a  very  young  man,  with  blond  curly  hair). 

Bobo.  Good  morning,  signora.  Good  morning,  ladies. 

Contessa.  Good  morning,  Bobo. 

Bobo.  I  am  early?  No?  I  was  walking  in  the  Corso, 
when  I  suddenly  remembered  that  it  was  my  birth- 
day— 

Contessa.  Your  birthday ! 

Angela.  Felicitations. 

Bobo.  As  nobody  else  had  remembered  it,  I  thought 
I  would  give  a  few  presents, — some  bonbons  for  the 
young  ladies,  and  a  necklace  for  Fifi.  It  is  the  latest 
thing.  It  is  made  of  Arabian  snail-shells, — fossils,  you 
know.  {Calling.)  Hippolito! 

Enter  Hippolito  with  the  bonbons  and  necklace,  and  exit. 
Contessa.  But  it  is  charming !  Where  did  you  find  it  ? 
Bobo.  At  Giulio's, — the  only  place.  He  has  a  stand- 

[  24  ] 


ACT  FIRST 

ing  order  to  show  me  all  novelties.  I  seldom  pass  a  day 
without  dropping  in  there.  It  will  suit  Fifi's  complex- 
ion, I  thought. 

Contessa.  But  it  is  charming.  Angela,  child,  do  find 
Fifi,  and  let  us  see  it  on  her  at  once. 

Hippolito  {announcing).  The  Abbe  Pandolfini. 

Enter  Abbe. 

Abbe.  Ah,  contessa!  I  just  put  my  head  in  to  ask 
how  you  have  survived  the  fatigues  of  the  carnival. 
What  a  day !  My  homage,  young  ladies.  Good  morn- 
ing, Signor  Bobo.  What  ardours!  What — {^Angela 
bows  somewhat  coldly.) 

Angela.  One  moment,  Abbe,  I  am  seeking  Fifi. 

\^Exit. 

Lucia.  Some  bonbons,  Abbe  ?  A  birthday  gift  from 
Bobo. 

Abbe  {aside ^  looMng  at  the  label  of  the  box).  From 
Tartini!  {To  Lucia.)  Thanks,  thanks.  {Takes  several 
and  puts  them  in  his  pocket.)  Birthday.''  Whose  birth- 
day? I  know  every  birthday  in  the  Corso.  {To  Con- 
tessa.) Contessa,  I  just  popped  in  at  old  Luigi''s  to  find 
outwhowas  in  town, you  know;  andwhatdoyou  think! 
Prince  Teleky  is  there,  one  of  the  greatest  nobles  in 
Europe,  and  a  madman  besides,  Luigi  says. 

[25] 


A   SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

{Angela  has  brought  back  the  dog,  ■which  she  has 
given  to  her  aunt.  The  Abbe  and  Lu£ia  crowd 
around  the  dog  with  exclamations  of  approval.) 

Bobo  {to  Angela).  Ah,  signorina. 

Angela.  Yes,  Bobo. 

Bobo.  Ah,  signorina,  if  I  had  not  known  you  would 
refuse  it,  I  should  have  brought  you  also  a  necklace. 

Angela.  Thank  you  all  the  same,  Bobo. 

Bobo.  Will  you  give  me  a  birthday  present.? — may 
I  call  you  Angela.? 

Angela.  Of  course  you  may,  Bobo. 

Abbe  {to  Contessa,  while  the  dog  is  attracting  the  at- 
teiition  of  the  rest).  Contessa,  may  I  have  a  private 
word  with  you.? 

Contessa.  Apropos,  Abbe,  you  were  to  tell  me  about 
our  Benevolent  Association.  There  is  to  be  a  meeting 
of  the  Apostles  of  the  Poor  to-morrow.  They  are  to 
come  here. 

Bobo  {to  the  young  ladies).  Shall  we  walk  in  the 
garden.?  [^Eoceunt  Bobo,  Angela  and  Lucia. 

Abbe  {mysteriously).  Prepare  yourself,  Contessa. 

Contessa.  Some  one  we  know.  Abbe.?  Not  a  married 
woman,  I  hope.  Not  old  Julia  Scacchi,  I  hope — eh?  Do 
not  tell  me  it  is  my  old  friend  Julia.  I  warned  her  last 

[26] 


ACT  FIRST 

year  that  the  publicity  of  her  friendship  with  that 
Spanish  Viconte  was  causing  remark.  Not  Juha,  Abbe ! 

A  hbe.  Not  in  the  least,  Contessa.  It  is  not  a  married 
woman  at  all. 

Contessa.  Ah,  you  clever  fox! 

Ahhe.  Watch-dog,  Contessa.  I  protect  the  fold, — 
the  lambs  and  the  ewes;  and,  by  the  intervention  of 
Providence,  I  believe  I  am  about  to  avert  a  scandal 
in  one  of  the  most  illustrious  families  in  Bologna. 

Contessa.  Abbe,  youVe  a  genius! 

Ahhe.  You  believe  in  the  sincerity  of  my  friendship, 
Contessa? 

Contessa.  Ah,  Abbe !  {Extends  her  hand  which  he 
kisses.) 

Ahhe.  If  the  disinterested  devotion  of  years  can  es- 
tablish me  in  your  confidence  and  lend  credit  to  my 
words — 

Contessa  (laughs).  Unnecessary,  my  dear  Abbe;  I 
shall  believe  the  worst  at  once.  Who  does  not? 

Ahhe.  But,  my  dear  friend,  I  must  ask  your  advice. 
The  matter  concerns  a  young  lady. 

Contessa.  A  young  lady! 

Ahhe.  Of  exalted  rank. 

Contessa.  Known  to  me? 

[27  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

Ahhe.  Intimately,  She  has  had  the  indiscretion  to 
conduct  a  correspondence  with  an  unknown  person, 
who  has  been  seen  under  her  balcony ;  and  her  family 
— most  estimable  gentlefolk — are  in  complete  igno- 
rance of  the  alarming  situation.  They  are  persons  to 
whom  I  am  under  the  greatest  obligations  in  the  world 
— the  greatest  obligations  in  the  world,  Contessa. 

Contessa.  Abbe,  you  are  moved.  You  alarm  me. 

Abhe.  My  duty  to  her  guardians, — to  society, — to 
the  young  lady  herself, — but  chiefly  to  her  second 
mother,  who  is  my  friend  and  patron  — 

Contessa.  Mercy  on  us,  Abbe !  What  do  you  mean .? 
{The  Abhe  stands  xvith  bent  head.)  One  of  my  nieces! 
{Ahhe  ditto.)  Angela!!  {Abhe  ditto.)  In  my  house!  Oh, 
my  Angela! 

Ahhe.  Let  me  entreat  you,  my  old  friend,  to  do  no- 
thing rashly.  We  must  observe  and  study  till  the  sit- 
uation develops.  Angela  is  headstrong,  and  might 
precipitate  some  disgrace  upon  the  family  if  she  were 
openly  taxed  with  her — her  unwisdom. 

Contessa.  I  remember  now,  I  saw  her  this  morning 
with  a  letter  in  her  hand.  So  this  is  why  she  rejects 
honourable  offers  of  marriage  from  distinguished  suit- 
ors! But  who  has  discovered  this  correspondence.? 

[28] 


ACT  FIRST 

Ahhe  {points  to  his  breast).  I  saw  her  drop  a  rose  to 
an  individual  who  disappeared  before  I  could  see  his 
face.  But  I  am  on  his  track. 

Contessa.  Merciful  Heaven!  On  the  very  day  when 
the  Prince  is  coming,!  ( Weeps.) 

Ahhe.  Do  you  permit  me  to  have  my  servant  watch 
the  balcony  for  some  days  ?  He  can  wear  a  Neapolitan 
cap  and  station  himself  unobserved  in  the  street  below. 
No  one  will  notice  him. 

Contessa.  As  you  will,  Abbe. 

Abhe.  Put  your  confidence  in  me,  Contessa,  I  will 
protect  you. 


[29] 


ACT  n 

The  Contessa's  Deawixg-Room 

At  the  centre  of  stage,  at  back;  are  double  doors  lead- 
ing into  the  corridor.  On  the  right  centre,  up  stage, 
is  a  harpsichord  icith  the  kei/s  turned  a-jcay  from  the 
audience.  To  the  left  of  the  harpsichord  a  large  arm- 
chair; nearer  the  audience,  a  fen- feet  from  armchair, 
a  chest  for  holding  music.  To  the  left  of  the  entrance 
doors,  a  small  sofa.  There  is  another  small  sofa  at  the 
Itft  of  the  stage,  about  halficay  back.  Various  small 
tables,  chairs,  sofas,  ornaments,  &c.,  includirg  a  large 
Italian  chest  zchich  stands  next  the  icall,  in  the  same 
part  of  the  room. 

Enter  Hippolito  showing  in  SigJior  Sarragossa,  a  very 
large,  stout  man  in  an  enormous  redingote.  Hippolito 
has  Fif  on  a  mat  in  his  arms,  and  xchile  talking  to 
Sarragossa  he  deposits  her  in  the  armchair,  caress- 
ing her  as  he  does  so. 

XliPPOLiTO.  Madame  receives.  Ah,  Signer  Sarragossa 
it  is  a  great  day  for  us  to-day.  The  young  Signor 
Hector  is  to  present  himself.  — There,  Fifi,  my  pretty 
Fifi. 

Sarragossa.  The  voung  man  of  the  will.-  Those  tes- 
tamentary arrangements  never  come  off  in  this  world, 
HippoHto.  You  mav  bequeath  a  nephew  money,  but 

[30] 


ACT  SECOND 

you  cannot  leave  him  a  wife.  That,  he  must  find  for 
himself. 

Hippolito.  Ah,  but  to  see  Signor  Hector  again! 
When  I  last  saw  him  he  was  so  high  {gesture).  He 
would  climb  on  my  shoulders.  He  was  all  gaiety.  If 
there  was  a  grand  dinner  party,  he  would  watch  on 
the  staircase.  When  I  carried  by  the  great  silver  soup- 
tureen,  he  would  drop  a  cat  in  it. 

Sarragossa.  Bravo!  He  will  succeed — that  boy. 

Hippolito.  Oh,  signor!  he  had  the  disposition  of  an 
angel. 

Sarragossa.  Would  I  had  such  a  son ! — some  tem- 
perament, some  dramatic  talent,  some  fire.  Bobo  is  a 
grief  to  me.  He  is  all  sincerity  and  goodness,  and  no 
temperament.  What  one  needs  in  this  world  is  insin- 
cerity and  dramatic  fire.  In  his  place,  I  should  have 
married  Signorina  Angela  long  ago.  Tell  me,  Hippo- 
lito, how  does  Bobo  progress.'^ 

Hippolito.  Ah,  signor,  so-so. 

Sarragossa.  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it.  And  now  comes 
this  firebrand  of  glory  to  bear  her  away  before  his  eyes. 
In  his  place — in  his  place.  Hippolito,  get  me  a  few 
moments  alone  with  the  Contessa.  You  can  manage 
these  things  so  easily.  Delay  the  young  ladies,  when 

[31   ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

they  come  downstairs,  by  some  device  {gives  money\ 
and  leave  the  Contessa  with  me. 

Hippolito.  The  signor  is  too  good.  But  I  must  tell 
the  signor  that  it  is  not  a  favourable  moment.  There 
is  a  foreign  prince  who  is  expected;  and  the  Contessa 
is  disturbed  by  something. 

Sarragossa.  Another!  The  times  bid  us  strike 
quickly.  Shall  we  Bolognese  stand  quiet  and  see  the 
whole  earth  devoured  by  foreign  princes.?  (^*ic?^.)  Cour- 
age, Rinaldo  Sarragossa! 

Hippolito.  Very  well,  signor,  but  I  warn  you  it  is  a 
bad  moment. 

Sarragossa.  Only  one  thing,  Hippolito.  Protect  me 
from  that  peeking  scoundrel,  the  Abbe  Pandolfini.  If 
he  puts  his  nose  in  the  house,  give  me  warning.  Break 
a  plate  before  you  announce  him.  I  will  pay  for  the 
plate. 

Hippolito.  I  will  do  my  utmost,  signor. 

\Exit  Hippolito. 

Sarragossa.  One,  —  two,  {He  practises  tahinga  stride 
and  falling  on  one  knee.)  Too  near.  One — two.  My 
hand  hanging  thus;  my  head  bent  at  first,  but  after- 
wards writhing  itself  to  look  in  her  face,  as  my  soul 
pours  forth  its  torrent.  {Rises.)  Bobo  is  afraid  of  the 

[  32  ] 


ACT  SECOND 

nobility.  He  forgets  that  they  are  human  beings,  whose 
hearts  throb,  whose  passions  surge,  whose  natures 
glow — 

Enter  the  Contessa. 

Contessa.  I  can't  think  what  has  become  of  Fifi. 
Why,  Sarragossa,  I  am  receiving  the  nobility  this 
afternoon.  What  brings  you  here.'' 

Sarragossa.  Grief,  signora. 

Contessa.  Grief?  What  grief  can  you  have,  except 
over  forgetting  to  take  two  helpings  of  sauce  when 
you  dined  with  the  Archbishop.'' 

Sarragossa.  You  would  not  jest  if  you  knew  the 
truth.  I  am  leavin";  Bologna. 

Contessa.  To  go  fishing  in  Carnia.? 

Sarragossa.  No,  no — not  to  go  fishing.  For  good, 
Contessa. 

Contessa.  Leaving  Bologna! 

Sarragossa.  Leaving  these  beloved  scenes  of  my 
youth, — this  city  where  every  stone  is  sanctified  by 
some  memory  of  happiness;  this  house  which  I  can- 
not think  of  without  a  glow  of  gratitude. 

Contessa.  Why,  Sarragossa,  I  did  not  know  you  had 
so  much  sentiment. 

Sarragossa.  I  did  not  know  it  myself.  I  thought  I 

[33] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

could  say  the  word,  and  it  would  be  done.  I  thought 
to  pluck  a  frail  flower  out  of  my  memory;  and,  Con- 
tessa,  the  roots  of  it  tore  my  heart  in  two.  Good-bye. 

Contessa.  You  do  not  mean  it,  my  friend,  surely. 
When  do  you  go? 

Sarragossa.  To-night — immediately. 

Contessa.  And  with  no  explanation  of  this — this 
singular  conduct? 

Sarragossa.  Do  not  ask  me.  I  seek  only  to  spare 
both  of  us.  I  intrude,  I  know  it.  Even  in  these  last 
moments  of  a  delicious  intercourse,  I  intrude.  We 
must  part  without  explanations,  which  would  be 
agonizing  to  me,  painful  to  us  both.  Your  guests  are 
on  the  threshold.  I  ask  forgiveness.  Good-bye! 

Contessa.  Signor  Sarragossa,  you  distress  me.  We 
cannot  part  thus. 

Sarragossa  {giving  a  quick  look  at  the  Contessa  and 
then  sotto  voce).  One — two.  {Falls  on  one  knee.  His 
words  become  more  and  more  rapid,  till  they  are  a  tor- 
rejit.)  Ah,  Teresa,  Teresa,  little  did  I  dream,  while 
allowing  my  soul  to  sip  the  innocent  nectar  of  friend- 
ship, that  I  was  taking  a  poison  into  my  bosom  that 
would  corrode,  would  grow  to  a  burning  conflagration, 
a  holocaust  of  my  whole  being  which,  like  a  tornado, 

[34] 


ACT  SECOND 

a  volcanic,  infernal  whirlwind  of  fire,  would  drive  me 
reeling  across  the  world.  Look  at  me,  Teresa !  Let  me 
carry  that  image  with  me  into  my  desolation, 

Contessa.  Signor  Sarragossa,  control  yourself. 

Sarragossa.  I  will, — I  will.  (Using  his  handker- 
chief.) Ah!  say  you  give  me  hope. 

Contessa.  I — I  do  not  withhold  it.  Rise,  my  friend; 

they  are  coming.  Rise  quickly. 

(Sarragossa  rises  so  quicMy  that  he  loses  his  balance, 
and  sinks  backward  into  the  armchair,  upon  Fiji. 
When  he  feels  his  contact  with  the  dog,  he  makes 
convidsive  efforts  to  arrest  the  descent.  A  low  pro- 
longed squatok  is  heard,  and  then  silence.  Sarra- 
gossa has  an  impulse  to  rise,  but  retains  his  self- 
control.) 

Contessa.  What  was  that.'* 

Sarragossa  (after  a  superhuman  effort).  Nothing.  I 
heard  nothing. 

Contessa.  It  was  like  the  cry  of  a  young  child. 

Sarragossa.  In  times  of  deep  emotion  we  hear 
sounds  that  are  not.  They  are  prefigurations, — em- 
bodiments,—  mysteries,  Contessa.  When  our  ears  are 
sharpened  to  the  infinite — (The  sound  of  a  plate 
breaking  is  heard.  Both  start  violently,  and  the  Contessa 
utters  a  slight  scream.  A  pause.  Then :) 

[So   ] 


A   SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

Hippolito  {announcing).  Monsieur  the  Abbe  Pan- 
dolfini. 

Ahhe.  Ah!  I  am  the  first.  It  was  intentional,  Ma- 
donna. I  have  a  word  for  you.  {She  has  moved  toward 
the  Ahhe,  Iteeping  in  line  between  the  two  men.)  What 
do  you  think.?  But  you  are  moved.  You  are  distressed. 
This  incident  is  wearing  upon  your  nerves.  {Offers  to 
take  her  hand.  She  holds  up  her  finger  to  the  Ahhe  as 
she  steps  aside.) 

Contessa.  Monsieur  TAbbe — Sign  or  Sarragossa. 

Ahhe  {aside).  The  brute  has  been  annoying  her.  {To 
Sarragossa.)  Good  afternoon,  Sarragossa.  You  are  at 
home  here,  I  see. 

Sarragossa  {feigning  an  attempt  to  rise  and  put- 
ting his  hand  to  his  back,  as  ifi  in  pain).  Forgive  me. 
Abbe :  a  touch  of  sciatica.  In  a  moment  it  will  be  gone. 

Abbe.  Apoplexy!  Apoplexy,  my  friend!  You  are 
seriouslv  ill.  You  have  had  a  seizure,  an  acces  of  some 
sort.  I  see  it  by  your  complexion. 

Contessa  {who  is  arranging  the  flowers,  without  look- 
ing round).  Are  you  ill,  Signor  Sarragossa.? 

Sarragossa.  Not  in  the  least,  Contessa.  I  demand 
pardon  a  thousand  times.  A  mere  spasm.  In  a  moment 
I  shall  recover. 

[36] 


ACT  SECOND 

Contessa.  Monsieur  I'Abbe,  have  you  more  news  of 
Prince  Teleky? 

Ahhe.  Apropos,  I  hear  he  is  a  great  amateur,  and  has 
ah'eady  begun  organizing  a  Shakespeare  revival.  Gia- 
como  has  seen  him,  and  has  joined  the  movement. 
{Enter  Angela,  Lucia  and  Giacomo.  Abbe  to  Giacomo.) 
You  must  leave  your  Lucia  for  a  moment  and  tell  us 
about  the  new  dramatic  movement. 

Giacomo.  Why,  the  man  is  a  great  genius.  {He joins 
the  Abbe  and  the  Contessa,  and  continues  to  talk  to  them 
in  dumb-show.) 

Angela  {to  Lucia.)  I  do  not  intend  to  look  at  my 
cousin  when  I  am  presented  to  him.  It  is  enough  if 
he  looks  at  me.  What  a  system !  This  is  civilization ! 
You  expose  the  young  woman  to  the  glances  of  the 
young  men  for  approval!  This  is  delicacy.  This  is 
modesty.  And  this  {showing  the  poem,  closely  folded 
in  her  hand) — this  is  sin.  I  will  hold  it  in  my  hand 
like  some  sacred  blossom,  and  smell  of  it  during  the 
interview. 

Lucia.  Do  not  overdo  the  part,  or  you  will  arouse 
suspicions. 

Giacomo  {looking  out  of  the  window).  Bononcini  is 
arriving! 

[37  ] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM    BOLOGNA 

Contessa.  Abbe,  will  you  kindly  take  your  place  be- 
side me  ?  Angela  and  Lucia,  there — that  will  do.  Gia- 
como,  you  are  not  of  the  family.  You  can  talk  to  Si- 
gnor  Sarragossa.  {He  does  so.  Sarragossa  greets  Mm 
cordially,  and  explains  his  maladies  in  dumb-show.) 

Hippolito  {aiuiounciiig).  Signor  Hector  Bononcini. 

Enter  Teleliy.  He  is  extremely  ill  at  ease. 

Contessa  {to  TeleTcy).  Welcome,  our  cousin  Hector, 
to  Bologna. 
We  long  have  looked  for  you.  I  know  your  life, 
If  rumour  tell  the  tithe  of  what  is  true, 
Has  not  been  all  domestic;  yet  I  dare 
Throw  open  your  ancestral  hearth  to  you. 
And  bid  you  welcome.  Welcome  to  Bologna. 

Teleky  {hows).  I  shall  endeavour,  aunt,  to  thank 
you  rather 
With  conduct  than  with  words;  and  if  my  life 
Prove  half  so  gracious  as  your  greeting  is, 
I  shall  acquit  me  well. 

Angela  {to  Lucia).  Wheedling  impostor.  'T  is  his 

latest  role. 
Contessa.  These  are  my  nieces.  This  is  Angela. 
I  will  not  speak  of  business  in  this  hour. 
You  know,  your  uncle  was  her  uncle  too; 

[38] 


ACT  SECOND 

And  in  his  will — 

Telelcy.  Lady,  I  understand 

The  woi'ldly  history. 

Contessa.  This,  my  other  niece, 

Lucia.  {To  Giacomo.)  Signer  Giacomo,  attend! 
My  niece  Lucia's  betrothed. 

Teleky.  Well  met,  and  welcome. 

Contessa.  The  Abbe  Pandolfini. 

AbhL  I  am  charmed. 

{To  Contessa.)  A  somewhat  gloomy  youth,  I  must  con- 
fess. 

Contessa.  It  seems  to  me  completely  natural 
Considering  his  birth.  He  lacks  the  usages, 
Like  all  his  people.  Shall  we  be  humane 
And  leave  him  time  to  thaw?  He's  not  so  bad, 
And  certainly  belies  his  reputation. 

{The  Contessa  and  Abbe  retire  and  occupy  the  sofa 
at  the  back.  Giacomo  and  Lucia  have  occupied  the 
sofa  at  the  left.  Angela  and  Teleky  are  thus  left 
standing  at  the  front  of  the  stage.,  looking  at  each 
other''s  feet,  in  fidgety  silence.  They  raise  their  eyes 
simultaneously,  and  Angela  starts  violently.  They 
converse  in  stage  whispers.) 

Angela.  Who  are  you? 

Teleky.  One  who  wandered  in  the  night, 

[39] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

And  found  a  star. 

Angela.  What  brings  you  here? 

Teleky.  The  power  over  all 

That  leads  us  to  ourself. 

Angela.  You  are  my  cousin? 

Teleky.  Lady,  I  dare  not  kneel.  I  am  not  he. 

Angela.  Thank  God  for  that! 

Teleky.  But  found  his  name  a  key 

To  let  me  through  to  all  divinity. 
My  race  is  known;  I  am  a  gentleman, 
And  free  in  my  estate  to  ask  your  hand. 

Angela.  Oh,  bring  it  not  in  question,  gentle  youth. 
Speak  not  of  marriage.  Did  you  know  my  name 
When  you  did  stand  beneath  the  balcony? 

Teleky.  No  more  than  angels  know  the  name  of  God, 
Feeling  his  influence. 

Angela  (aside).         O  guiding  Heaven, 
That  steer'st  the  constant  stars,  break  not  this  dream ! 
{To  Teleky.)  I  would  not,  sir. 
Have  you  misknow  me.  Many  find  me  harsh; 
For  the  embittered  virgin  only  knows 
What  heat  she  hides.  I  pray  you,  sir,  take  heed. 
If  in  this  cup  there  is  a  drop  of  poison, 
I  shall  go  mad. 

[  40  ] 


ACT  SECOND 

Teleky.  It  is  the  wine  of  life 

Flooding  my  soul;  how  can  it  poison  yours? 

Angela.  Sir,  I  have  longed  to  meet  a  human  soul, 
Dissociate  from  the  trammels  of  this  world. 
The  give  and  take  of  lies,  the  tinge  of  tact 
And  daily  basenesses  of  daily  life. 
Tell  me  not  who  you  are  before  I  ask, 
That  I  may  keep  you  as  a  sacrament, 
An  unnamed  wonder  and  a  mystery, — 
That  birthright  of  each  rough-hand  peasant  girl 
That  makes  her  glory. 

Where  two  are  housed  within  one  sole  disguise 
And  walk  invisible,  their  souls  may  meet, 
As  if  in  heaven.  I  pray  you,  keep  it  so 
Some  little  while,  till  we  do  know  each  other. 

Teleky.  It  shall  be  as  you  will. 

Angela.  But  we  must  show 

A  natural  behaviour.  {Aloud.)  Cousin  Hector, 
How  is  it  that  we  never  heard  from  you.? 

Giacomo  (to  Lucia).  Under  this  mild  exterior!  Ha, 
ha,  ha!  Beneath  this  sanctimonious,  timid  sobriety !  Ha, 
ha,  ha !  A  Lothario  for  Angela  at  last !  Too  good,  too 
good.  But  he  is  a  blessing;  he  will  be  the  salvation  of 
all  of  us.  He  must  be  spoon-fed  and  encouraged.  {Looks 

[41    ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

toward  Teleky.)  Ah,  you  wicked  Don  Juan !  {Looks 
toward  the  Contessa.)  In  our  house! 

Angela  {rising,  and  to  Lucia,  who  joins  her).  I  find 
that  our  cousin  has  forgotten  Bologna  as  completely 
as  if  he  had  never  been  here. 

Lucia.  Ah,  indeed !  Why  then  we  shall  have  the  op- 
portunity of  showing  him  all  of  oui*  society  as  if  he 
were  a  foreigner.  {Giacomo  is  approaching,  still  laugh- 
ing inwardly.) 

Angela.  We  have  the  buildings — 

Lucia.  And  the  people — 

Giacomo.  And  the  University!  {Exploding  and 
poking  Teleky  in  the  ribs.)  Ah,  you  wicked  Don 
Juan! 

Teleky.  Signore! 

Angela.  For  Heaven's  sake,  Giacomo! 

Giacomo  {in  a  low  voice).  Don't  misunderstand  me. 
I  lay  my  life  at  the  service  of  you  both. 

Contessa  {to  Abbe).  I  told  you  that  if  we  left  the 
young  people  to  themselves  they  would  soon  become 
acquainted.  They  behave  like  old  friends  already.  I 
am  glad  to  see  that  Angela  is  acting  like  a  lady. 

Giacomo  {to  Teleky).  In  the  first  place,  let  me  ex- 
plain to  you  the  individuals  on  the  sofa.  The  lady  ex- 

[  42  ] 


ACT  SECOND 

plains  herself.  You  have  only  to  continue  as  you  have 
begun, — deference,  humility,  sadness.  {Explodes  again 
and  nudges  him.)  Excuse  me,  I  cannot  help  it.  The 
Abbe,  on  her  right,  is  a  damnable  roof-cat,  who  gets 
his  living  by  stealing  cold  chicken  livers.  As  for  the 
family,  you  will  have  to  read  up  a  little.  But  let  me  tell 
you  that  your  great-uncle  Ludovic  Bononcini  was 
half  brother  to  Joseph  Maria  Pozzi,  or  Pozzuoli.  The 
Pozzi  and  the  Bononcini  have  been  allied  for  centu- 
ries. Some  say  that  Sforza  Pozzi  came  from  Milan  in 
the  twelfth  century,  and  was  a  contractor  for  build- 
ing sewers.  At  any  rate,  the  sewers  are  here.  The  arms 
are  a  spade  fossant,  and  a  man  up  to  his  knees  in  mud; 
but  whether  he  is  getting  out  of  the  mud,  or  going 
into  the  mud — that  is  the  question. 

{Sarragossa  has,  during  the  foregoing  proceedings, 

been  sunk  in  profound  melancholy.   The  audience 

must  forget  him.  When  Giacomo  begins  to  talk  about 

genealogy  —  and  not  before — Sarragossa,  seeing 

that  he  is  tinobserved,  reaches  out  his  toe  icith  the 

utmost  stealth,  and  lifts  the  lid  of  the  music-chest. 

He  then  gradnally  stands  up,  and  is  edging  himself 

towards  the  chest,  holding  the  dog  behind  his  back,  in 

his  right  hand.  He  has  almost  reached  the  place  of 

safety,  when  Giacomo  sees  him,  and  imagines  that  he 

is  coming  forward  to  be  presented.) 

[   43   ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Giacomo.  Ah !  but  I  forgot  our  friend  Signor  Sar- 
ragossa,  an  old  family  friend. 

Sarragossa  {giving  his  left  hand).  Delighted!  Par- 
don,— rheumatism, — a  martyr.  Nevertheless,  with  my 
heart  I  extend  all  hands  to  you,  my  dear  sir. 

Hippolito  {ptdting  his  head  in  at  the  door).  Prince 
Teleky  is  coming  up  the  steps!  {Everyone  turns  to- 
wards the  door.  Sarragossa  seizes  the  moment  to  de- 
posit the  dog  in  the  chest  and  shut  the  lid.) 

Sarragossa  {aside).  Safe!  {He  arranges  his  collar 
mops  his  brora,  and  rests.) 

Hippolito  {announcing).  Prince  Teleky. 

Enter  Hector  in  Hingarian  costume. 
Contessa  {curtsies).  Prince  Teleky,  your  father  was 
my  friend 
Many  years  since.  I  gladly  would  repay 
Half  his  old  kindnesses  to  me  and  mine 
By  welcome  to  his  son.  {She  extends  her  hand.) 
Hector.  Is  this  enough?  My  father  loaded  me 
With  messages  that  wore  a  warmer  tinge 
(Sending  me  to  your  bosom  as  a  son). 
Which,  with  your  modest  leave,  I  will  deliver.  {Offers 

to  Tciss  her.) 
'Tis  a  Hungarian  custom  Avith  old  friends, 

[  44  ] 


ACT  SECOND 

And  has  a  rustic  beauty. 

Contessa.  Truly,  sir, 

If  youth  be  your  excuse,  age  shall  be  mine.  {Kisses 

him.) 
{Aside.)  A  more  enchanting  prince  I  never  saw.  {She 

talks  to  the  Prince.) 

Teleky  {aside).  What  will  he  do.?  {To  Angela.)  My 
soul,  my  heart  of  love, 
It  hurts  my  honour  thus  to  play  a  game 
In  which  I  steal  a  name  from  someone  else. 

Angela.  Love,  on  your  life,  no  more !  Have  you  not 
sworn  ? 
Would  I  for  you  not  steal  a  vagrant  name 
Or  act  a  drama.?  If  you  break  the  spell 
Our  happiness  breaks  too. 

Contessa  {introducing).  My  niece  Angela,  my  niece 
Lucia.  My  cousin,  Hector  Bononcini  — 

Hector  {to  Contessa).  Ah,  Hector  Bononcini.  I  have 
heard  of  him.  Who  has  not?  A  breaker  of  hearts!  A 
wild,  turbulent  fellow  who  has  run  through  three  for- 
tunes and  is  now,  they  say,  in  search  of  a  third.  Most 
interested  to  meet  him.  {Puts  up  an  eyeglass,  and  ex- 
amines Teleky.) 

Contessa.  I  leave  you  in  good  hands.  {She  returns 

[45  ] 


A   SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

to  the  door  to  greet  Pietro  and  Ryfredo  andBobo,  who 
are  arriving.  Angela^  Giacomo  and  Lucia  talk  together 
in  dumb-show.) 

Teleky  {to  Hector  in  a  fierce  whisper).  This  has  gone 
far  enough.  Think  who  you  are!  What  uniform  you 
wear ! 

Hector  (to  Teleky^  ditto).  And  do  you  remember 
that  you  are  in  the  shoes  of  Hector  Bononcini,  who 
has  the  name  of  not  being  a  milksop,  and  who  doesn't 
enjoy  looking  like  a  sick  calf. 

Teleky  (as  before).  No  more  Hungarian  customs,  if 
you  please. 

Hector.  Why,  you  puppy,  you  may  attend  to  your 
own  affairs,  I  suppose.  (Teleky  moves  over  and  talks 
to  the  Abbe  and  Sarragossa,  Hector  to  the  young  ladies 
and  Giacomo.) 

Hector.  Long  have  I  hoped  to  have  this  happiness. 
For,  you  must  know,  Bologna  is  a  place 
That  throws  its  shadows  out  like  fairy  land 
O'er  our  imagination  in  the  North. 
Its  wealth,  its  beauty,  its  romantic  name, — 
This  lady  will  forgive  me  that  I  know 
She  is  a  cynosure  to  venturous  barks — 

Angela  (to  Hector).  Your  pardon,  sir, 

I  see  my  aunt  requires  me.  Did  she  not, 

[46] 


ACT  SECOND 

I  still  should  flee  from  such  impertinence.  {Angela 
joins  the  Contessa.) 

Hector  {to  Giacomo  and  Lucia).  Well,  how  goes  it? 

Giacomo.  Lightning  and  gunpowder.  They  have  been 
standing  like  two  dying  swans  that  sing  madrigals  to 
each  other.  They  were  in  love  at  first  sight  yesterday, 
and  to-day  they  are  swimming  in  the  madness  of  bliss. 

Hector.  Why,  the  thing  is  done!  He  has  only  to 
declare  himself  and  offer  her  his  hand  in  honourable 
marriage.  I  shall  return  to  Paris  to-night,  and  wait 
there  till  I  learn  that  Angela  is  safely  married. 

Giacomo.  No,  no,  no! 

Lucia.  Honourable  offers  of  man'iage  are  poison  to 
her. 

Giacomo.  She  would  throw  him  over!  She  would  dis- 
cover that  he  was  a  fortune-hunter  and  a  worldling. 

Lucia.  You  do  not  know  my  sister! 

Giacomo.  We  have  had  three  years  of  her !  Be  ad- 
vised by  us.  She  must  never  know  that  he  is  a  good 
parti  till  she  is  firmly  engaged  to  him. 

Hector.  But  how, — but  how  ?  He  will  declare  himself. 

Giacomo.  Beseech  him  not  to. 

Hector.  But  how, — but  how? 

Lucia.  They  must  elope. 

[47  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Giacomo.  It  would  help  greatly  if  you  could  make 
love  to  her, 

Lucia.  Apply  for  her  hand  to  our  aunt. 

Hector.  It  might  be  done.  There  is  nothing  between 
me  and  my  happiness  except  the  will  of  this  obstinate 
girl.  She  shall  elope ! 

Giacomo.  It  must  be  done,  my  friend;  it  is  our  only 
chance. 

Hector.  Wait,  wait!  We  must  have  something  to 
facilitate  an  elopement, —  some  grand  diversion, — 
something  upsetting  and  extraordinary.  I  have  it.  The- 
atricals! They  are  my  role.  We  will  give  a  Shake- 
spearean performance.  We  will  all  meet  here  to-mor- 
row afternoon.  If  there  is  anything  that  stimulates  dis- 
order and  unreason,  it  is  private  theatricals.  It  shall  all 
be  impromptu.  I  will  bring  the  actors  and  the  cos- 
tumes. It  shall  be  a  surprise  party.  You  get  Teleky 
invited  to  stay  in  the  house,  and  leave  the  rest  to  me. 

Giacomo.  Divine! 

Lucia.  Inspired!  Come,  shall  we  have  some  music 
now?  I  will  organize  it,  {She  crosses  the  room.)  Mon- 
sieur TAbbe,  will  you  not  play  my  accompaniment.? 
{At  the  suggestion  of  music  Sarragossahas  pricked  ujp 
his  ears.) 

[48] 


ACT  SECOND 

Sarragossa.  Ah,  music !  How  enchanting!  I  will  find 
the  songs.  {He  occupies  the  music-chest  andfivmhles  in 
it,  pulling  out  songs  and  offering  them  to  Lucia.) 
Which  will  you  have,  mademoiselle?  "Dove  Sono"" — 
"Porgi  Amor"? 

Lucia.  None  of  those.  Let  me  find  it. 

Sarragossa.  Not  for  the  world.  I  insist. 

Lucia.  It  is  at  the  bottom, — a  red  cover. 

Sarragossa.  At  the  bottom — at  the  bottom.  Here 
it  is.  {Hands  it  to  her.) 

Abbe  (taking  his  seat  at  the  harpsichord.  To  Sarra- 
gossa). Are  you  all  right  again  ? 

Sarragossa.  Pretty  well,  pretty  well.  (Sits  on  the 
music-chest.  Lucia  sings  an  old  Italian  melody.  At  the 
close  there  is  a  buzz  of  approval:  ^^  Charming,''''  ^^How 
sweet,''''  See.  People  move  about.  Teleky  and  Angela  thus 
find  themselves  together  on  a  sofa.  The  Abbe  is  play- 
ing soft,  prelim'inary  chords,  and  Lucia  is  occupied  in 
examining  a  page  of  music.) 

Angela  (to  Teleky).  Sir,  I  have  kept  your  verses  in 
my  bosom. 

Teleky.  I  was  ashamed  to  send  them. 

Angela.  A  great  flash 

As  of  Apollo's  lyre  rings  out  of  them. 
You  are  a  poet. 

[  49  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Teleky.  No,  sweet  saint,  a  lover. 

{She  takes  his  hand,  but  qiiicMy  withdraws  her  own.) 

Angela.  All  things  begin  to  beckon  and  to  move. 
The  lilting  cadence  of  that  sweet  old  song. 
Which  yesterday  was  threadbare,  seems  to  stir 
The  sleeping  roots  of  some  surrounding  music. 
Do  you  not  feel  it?  It  is  everywhere. 

Teleky.  I  feel  the  power  of  a  great  command 
Behind  my  being. 

Angela.  This  familiar  room 

Was  empty,  strange,  and  hostile  till  to-day, 

And  all  these  genial  people,  enemies. 

To  think  such  new  worlds  live  within  the  old 

And  we  not  find  them !  Think  you  that  Lucia 

Takes  the  habitual  ecstasy  for  granted, — 

Or  does  not  feel  it? 

( The  song  is  about  to  begin  when  enter  Hippolito  in 
great  excitement.) 

Hippolito.  Signora,  Fifi  has  disappeared!  {The  Abbe 
makes  a  discord.  Sarragossa  starts  violently,  but  re- 
gains his  composure.)  I  have  searched  everywhere. 

Contessa.  Fifi,  my  Fifi !  My  beloved  Fifi ! 

Hippolito.  A  strange  individual  has  been  seen  lurk- 
ing beneath  the  balcony  to-day.  Now  he  is  no  longer 

[50] 


ACT   SECOND 

there,  and  Fifi  has  disappeared! 

Contessa.  Bobo,  run  at  once  to  the  police. 

Hippolito.  The  necklace  alone  is  worth  forty  scudi. 

{Great  excitement  and  confusion^  everyone  maJcing 
suggestions  at  once.  Exit  Hippolito.) 

Hector.  Your  ladyship  will  permit  me  to  accom- 
pany our  young  friend  to  the  police.  I  may  be  of  some 
service. 

Contessa.  Ah,  Prince,  how  kind  of  you. 

Hector.  The  animal  will  be  found  of  course.  {To 
Lucia.)  But  it  is  a  pity  our  song  should  be  spoiled. 
{He  makes  his  adieus^  bowing  distantly  to  Angela.  The 
other  guests  prepare  to  go.) 

Sarragossa.  It  will  be  found  of  course.  {Aside.)  It 
will  be  found,  and  its  condition  will  be  evidence 
against  me, — crushing  evidence.  {Sinks  into  thought.) 

Contessa  {to  Teleky).  A  sad  contretemps,  signer; 
but  I  must  call  you  Hector.  Adieu  till  to-morrow.  We 
shall  expect  you  to  move  to  us  from  your  inn  in  the 
morning. 

Sarragossa  {making  his  adieus).  Ah,  my  dear  friend, 
what  anguish !  Call  on  me  for  anything. 

Contessa.  Thank  you,  my  friend. 

Sarragossa  {going).  Have  I  your  permission  to  bor- 

[  51    ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

row  that  beautiful  song  "Amore  Segreto"? 

Contessa.  Certainly, — anything. 

{Pietro  and  Rufredo  are  now  making  their  adieus. 
Sarragossa  approaches  the  music-chest,  his  face  to- 
wards the  audience,  his  back  towards  the  group.  He 
pidls  the  dog  from  the  box,  and  rolls  it  up  in  a  song. 
The  head  sticks  out.  He  rolls  it  up  in  another  way. 
The  tail  sticks  out.  He  mops  hisforehead.  He  glances 
behind  him.  Suddenly,  by  a  bold  movement,  he  swings 
the  dog  into  the  breast  of  his  coat,pids  a  roll  of  mu- 
sic under  his  arm,  and  steers  himself  towards  the 
door.) 

Sarragossa  {aside).  Courage,  Rinaldo  Sarragossa! 

\^Exit. 
Angela  {aside).  Till  to-morrow! 

[Exit  with  a  tragic  gesture  by  a  wing. 

Lucia  {to  Giacomo).  What  a  tea-party ! 

Giacomo  {to  Lucia).  I  did  not  dare  to  look  at  her. 

{^Exeunt  by  a  wing.  The  Contessa  sits  down  and 
puts  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes.  The  Abbe 
poses  near  to  console  her. 

Contessa.  My  poor  Fifi. 

Abbe.  Ah,  indeed. 

Contessa.  On  any  day  but  this! 

Abbe.  Ah,  indeed. 

Contessa.  Some  malignant  influence  is  in  the  air 

[52] 


ACT  SECOND 

to-day.  Everything  happens  strangely.  My  nerves  are 
affected.  I  fear  something. 
Abbe.  I  feel  it  myself. 

Enter,  with  mystery,  Hippolito. 
Hippolito.  Madame! 

AbbL       -\  „^,       .    .  ^ 
\  What  is  it.? 
Contessa. 


Hippolito.  It  is  not  he! 
What! 


AbbL       \ 


Contessa.) 

Hippolito.  Signor  Hector — is  not — Signor  Hec- 
tor! 

Abbe.  What  do  you  mean.? 

Hippolito.  It  is  not  the  boy !  It  is  not  Hector ! 

Abbe.  Come,  come,  Hippolito,  you  have  not  seen 
him  for  fifteen  years. 

Contessa  {to  A  bbe).  Hippolito  is  affected,  like  the  rest. 

Hippolito.  Ah,  signora,  /  not  know  my  little  Hec- 
tor! {Coming  very  near  and  raising  his  voice.)  But  I 
would  know  the  scar  on  his  ear,  would  I  not.?  This 
one  has  the  ears  of  an  ourang-outang ! 

Contessa  {utters  a  slight  scream).  Abbe,  it  is  a  con- 
spiracy ! 

[53] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Hippolito.  I  would  swear  it,  I  would  swear  it !  Bring 
me  before  the  court  of  justice !  I  asked  him  if  he  re- 
membered breaking  his  leg  in  the  tank.  Could  a  boy 
forget  that?  He  fled,  madame.  He  fled — he  fled. 

{Hippolito  sidles  across  the  room  as  he  says  this,  imi- 
tating criminal  Jlight.  The  Countess  is  terrified  hy 
the  exhibition,  and  almost  puts  her  hand  on  the 
Abbes  shoulder  as  she  watches  it.) 

Abbe.  We  are  in  the  presence  of  something  mon- 
strous,— something  overshadowing.  But  put  your 
trust  in  me.  I  will  protect  you. 


[  54  ] 


ACT  ni 

SCENE  FIRST 
The  Room  at  the  Inn 

Hector,  Giacomo,  Pietro,  Riifredo,  Sarragossa  and  An- 
drea. The  room  is  in  confusion.  Stage  properties  are  ly- 
ing about, — hats,  zvigs,  costumes,  boots  and  trumpery. 
Hector  is  sitting  before  a  table  covered  with  papers;  as 
he  talks  he  makes  memoranda  upon  his  lists. 

llECTOR.  A  most  inspiring  session.  (Looksat  hiswatch.) 
But  we  must  break  up.  Signor  Sarragossa,  you  will  be 
responsible  for  the  wigs  and  swords.  Here  is  a  list  of 
them.  Giacomo,  you  will  see  to  these  details.  We  must 
have  a  few  extra  costumes :  they  are  sure  to  be  needed. 
Cinque-cento  is  the  safest. 

Giacomo.  Scipio,  in  the  old  market,  has  a  doge's  cos- 
tume of  the  trecento  which  is  very  fine. 

Hector.  Excellent,  Let 's  have  it. 

Sarragossa.  There  must  be  blood  on  Caesar's  toga: 
mind  you  that.  I  cannot  do  it  without  the  blood. 

Hector.  See  to  it,  Giacomo;  red  ink  will  do.  Spare 
no  expense:  the  public  demands  it.  Pietro,  you  insist 
on  Othello .? 

Pietro.  Othello  suits  my  physique.  I  have  never  acted 

anything  else. 

[55] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Hector.  Good. — Rufredo? 

Rufredo.  Shylock,  please. 

Hector.  Certainly. — Giacomo.'^ 

Giacomo.  Oh,  a  fool,  one  of  the  fools,  any  fool. 

Hector.  Good.  Bobo  will  prompt.  Teleky  and  Angela 
are  provided  for, — Romeo  and  Juliet.  {Laughter.) 

Giacomo.  The  worse  he  acts,  the  better  it  will  be. 
It  is  going  to  be  thrilling. 

Hector.  But  you  must  all  go  now.  I  have  only  time 
to  throw  the  lines  together.  Good-bye  till  three  o'clock. 
Sign  or  Sarragossa,  I  congratulate  you.  As  Mark  An- 
tony you  are  great. 

Sarragossa  {who  has  heen  barnstorming  in  dumb- 
show).  It  is  the  passion  of  my  life ! 

Pietro.  Till  three  o'clock. 

Giacomo.^ 

I  Good-bye. 
Rufredo.  J 

\^Exeunt  Giacomo,  Pietro,  Rufredo  and  Sarra- 
gossa. 
Hector  {to  Andrea).  It  will  be  a  unique  perform- 
ance; I  am  going  to  let  every  man  take  his  favourite 
part.  Sarragossa  would  make  a  splendid  lago,  but  he 
insists  on  Mark  Antony. 

Andrea.  He  was  magnificent.  He  makes  my  blood 

[56] 


ACT  THIRD 

run  cold. — But,  signor,  why  these  distractions? 

Hector.  They  are  not  distractions.  They  are  busi- 
ness, you  blockhead.  I  am  building  a  bridge.  I  shall 
march  back  to  Paris  across  it,  and  find  my  Julia  at 
the  end.  Andrea,  beneath  all  the  external  gaiety  I  am 
thinking  of  her.  Ah,  to  see  her  again ! 

Andrea.  You  will  see  her  very  soon. 

Hector  {dreamily).  You  think  so,  Andrea.? 

Andrea.  She  is  in  Bolop-na. 

o 

Hector.  Murder  and  sudden  death!  How  do  you 
know  it.?  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before.? 

Andrea.  I  did  not  know  it  before.  I  saw  her  pass  the 
window  half  an  hour  ago,  in  a  caleche.  She  stopped  at 
the  hotel;  she  made  inquiries;  she  passed  on.  The  si- 
gnori  were  here. 

Hector.  Put  up  those  things!  Get  my  valises  ready! 
No,  I  will  not  fly;  in  fact  I  cannot.  Had  I  but  twenty- 
four  hours  more!  But  it  can  be  done,  even  now.  It  can 
be  finished  before  she  overtakes  me.  If  only  that  ass 
Teleky  were  a  man !  But  no;  he  is  all  honour  and  sen- 
timent! He  will  not  elope — he!  He  is  too  high-minded 
to  take  advantage  of  a  young  girl — the  sickly  sonnet- 
eer! He  shall  elope!  Giacomo  is  right.  I  must  apply  for 
her  hand.  Let  him  look  to  his  laurels  when  I  take  the 
field  against  him!  r  c?  n 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

Andrea.  Sorrows  of  the  saints,  my  master!  What 
excitement  are  you  in? 

Hector.  Go,  you  skulking  clod,  and  watch  below.  If 
there  is  any  sign  of  that  caleche,  report  it.  {Exit  An- 
drea, shaking  his  head  and  wringing  his  hands.)  I  have 
one  drama  to  write, — another  to  enact. 

{Sits  down  and  writes.) 
"Madam,  it  is  with  a  beating  heart  that  I  make  known 
to  you  the  true  purpose  of  my  journey  to  Bologna. 
This  was  to  assure  myself  of  the  respect  of  your  niece 
Signorina  Angela,  and  to  have  knowledge  of  her  ex- 
cellence and  beauty,  before  making  a  formal  applica- 
tion for  her  hand.  Have  knowledge  {correcting  the 
page) — independent  of  report — concerning  her  excel- 
lence and  beauty.  My  friend  has  just  informed  me  of 
the  gaieties  which  he  is  instituting  for  this  afternoon 
at  your  palazzo;  and  it  will  give  me  the  greatest 
pleasure  to  pay  my  homage  to  you  and  to  the  young 
lady  at  the  time  appointed."  Now  for  a  fair  copy. 
{Takes  another  sheet.  Copies  and  talks.)  By  this  letter 
the  mind  of  the  Contessa  will  be  unsettled.  The  Con- 
tessa  will  prefer  the  Prince  to  the  Cousin.  The  Con- 
tessa may  be  counted  on  to  do  something  which  will 
irritate  Angela  and  insult  Teleky.  Good.  Somehow  I 

don't  like  signing  another  man's  name.  But  how  else 

[58] 


ACT  THIRD 

save  him?  (Signs.)  "Stephen  Teleky."  (Enter  Andrea 
with  a  note  which  Hector  opens,  turning  to  the  signa- 
ture.) From  Lucia,  (Reads.)  "Courage  and  firmness! 
My  aunt  and  the  Abbe  have  grown  suspicious.  They 
are  planning  to  ask  questions.  Tliey  doubt  the  identity. 
I  think  Hippohto  is  at  the  bottom  of  it.  Use  discre- 
tion. Above  all  act  quickly.  Lucia." 

Hector.  All  will  be  lost!  Andrea,  who  brought  this 
note? 

Andrea.  A  private  servant,  signor. 

Hector.  Send  him  up !  (Exit  Andrea.  Enter Hippolito. 
Hector  looks  narrowly  at  him.)  So  it  seems  that  some- 
thing unpleasant  has  occurred. 

Hippolito.  Yes,  your  highness. 

Hector.  Some  doubts? 

Hippolito.  Yes,  your  highness. 

Hector.  Some  disbelief?  The  signorina  tells  me  that 
you  know  something  about  this. 

Hippolito.  There  is  no  doubt.  It  is  not  he.  I  swear 
it!  Produce  me! 

Hector.  The  other  was  younger. 

Hippolito.  Yes,  your  highness. 

Hector.  Handsomer. 

Hippolito.  Yes,  your  highness. 

[59] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

Hector.  Gayer,  wittier,  more  full  of  jokes,  tricks, 
escapades,  runnings  away,  fallings  down,  and  jellies 
in  the  pantry. 

Hippolito.  You  knew  him!  O  Prince,  he  was  an 
angel.  I  weep  when  I  think  of  him.  He  climbed  the 
apple  tree — 

Hector.  Above  the  tank — 

Hippolito.  And  fell  and  broke  his  leg — 

Hector.  And  was  four  weeks  at  old  Hippolito^s  farm- 
house getting  well! 

Hippolito.  Is  your  highness  a  magician  ? 

Hector.  Do  you  not  know  me,  Hippolito? 

Hippolito. 'WhaXl  O  heavens,  heavens !  It  is  my  little 
Hector.  {Embraces  him.  Then  with  sudden  suspicion.) 
No,  no,  I  will  not  be  deceived  twice.  Let  me  see  the 
ear!  {Examines  it.)  It  is  he,  it  is  he!  {Pats  and  strokes 
Hector.  Again,  with  sudden  suspicion.)  And  the  other .? 

Hector.  My  friend !  My  comrade,  who  is  to  wed  Si- 
gn orina  Angela.  It  is  all  a  joke  between  us.  He  is  one 
of  the  greatest  princes  of  Europe,  and  one  of  the  worst 
actors.  It  is  all  a  joke,  Hippolito.  But  we  could  n't 
deceive  you,  Hippolito. 

Hippolito.  As  if  anyone  could  deceive  me  about  my 
little  Hector! 

[  60] 


ACT  THIRD 

Hector.  But  you  must  keep  the  secret,  or  the  match 
will  be  ruined.  You  must  help  us.  You  must  identify 
him.  You  must — embrace  him! 

Hippolito.  I  cannot.  He  is  too  cold. 

Hector.  You  must^  Hippolito.  You  must  pet  him  and 
call  him  love-names.  {Hippolito  makes  a  wry  face.) 
And  everything  he  says,  you  must  corroborate.  And 
everything  you  say,  he  must  corroborate. 

Hippolito.  I  will  try,  signer. 

Hector.  Everything  depends  upon  it.  Hippolito,  you 
are  intelligent:  I  will  explain  to  you.  Our  Signorina 
Angela  is  romantic. 

Hippolito  {rolling  his  eyes).  Ah,  signor. 

Hector.  Poetical. 

Hippolito.  Ah,  signor. 

Hector.  Ecstatic,  mystic,  living  in  the  world  of 
dreams — 

Hippolito  {zaiping  his  eye  with  his  sleeve) .  She  is  indeed. 

Hector.  She  is  in  love  with  this  friend  of  mine,  dead 
in  love,  melting,  molten,  disgustingly  in  love.  Did  you 
ever  see  such  love.f* 

Hippolito.  Yes,  indeed. 

Hector.  And  he  is  in  love  with  her. 

Hippolito.  With  those  cold  manners! 

[61  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Hector.  Yes,  he  is,  Hippolito,  He  is  frozen  into  a 
paralysis  of  Hungarian  love. 

Hippolito  {seeing  light).  A-a-a-ah !  ? 

Hector.  And  now  Angela  demands  a  robber  to  carry 
her  off.  Nothing  else  will  satisfy  her. 

Hippolito.  A-a-a-ah !  ? 

Hector.  They  must  rise  and  fly.  Hippolito,  you  have 
seen  the  way  they  make  pheasants  rise.?  Yes.  They 
drive  them  forward  and  backward  with  hue  and  cry 
{suits  action  to  words).  The  pheasants  run  between  the 
beaters'  legs  and  hide  in  the  underbrush.  What  then  ? 
They  erect  a  fence  in  the  underbrush  and  di-ive  the 
pheasants  towards  it.  Up  go  the  pheasants.  {Gesture.) 
So  it  is  to  be  with  these  lovers.  I  am  driving  them 
backwards  and  forwards  till  they  become  exasperated 
and  exhausted.  Then,  up  and  away  they  will  go ! 

Hippolito  {in  ecstasy).  A-a-a-ah!! 

Hector.  I  have  a  sort  of  char i-vari  this  afternoon  at 
the  Contessa's,  to  stir  them  about  with, — to  make  life 
exciting  for  them, — to  show  them  that  Bologna  is  not 
the  place  for  them.  It  is  not  quiet  in  Bologna.  It  is 
tumultuous.  You  understand.? 

Hippolito.  Oh,  my  master,  this  is  like  the  olden  days. 

Hector.  Now  you  must  make  all  things  go  smoothly. 

[62] 


ACT  THIRD 

No  matter  what  happens,  say  that  Signor  Hector  has 
ordered  it  so.  Ha,  ha,  ha! 

Hippolito.  Ha,  ha,  ha! 

Hector.  And  can  you  manage  to  have  a  chaise  and 
pair  waiting  all  the  afternoon  in  the  back  alley  ?  Some- 
thing may  come  of  it.  It  will  simplify  matters  to  have 
the  carriage  in  waiting. 

Hippolito.  Of  course. 

Hector.  Now  go  quickly.  Someone  is  coming  up  the 
stairs.  Stay!  A  letter  for  the  Contessa.  {Gives  it  to 
him.)  Above  all  remember  to  fawn  upon — upon  the 
other  Hector. 

{Hippolito  is  going  out.  Enter  Teleky,  shrouded  in 
deepest  gloom.) 

Hippolito  {looks  at  Teleky  with  disgust  and  says 

beseechingly  to  Hector).  Not  this  time,  signor. 

Hector.  No,  not  this  time;  but  next  time. 

\^Exit  Hippolito.  Telelcy  goes  to  a  chair  and  sits 
down. 

Hector.  Well? 

Teleky  {says  riothing). 

Hector.  Well? 

Teleky  {says  nothing). 

Hector.  Well,  was  it  your  girl? 

[63] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Teleky.  You  know  it  was. 

Hector.  Then  what  have  you  to  complain  of? 

Teleky.  Of  what  are  you  Italians  not  capable !  A  civ- 
ilization of  mountebanks !  I  have  come  to  break  with 
it.  I  owe  you  no  allegiance,  but  I  would  not  break  my 
word  except  upon  an  explanation.  I  shall  declare  my- 
self. I  have  lived  in  torture  since  I  met  you.  I  am  be- 
come an  object  of  suspicion;  a  mystery  in  the  drawing- 
room,  a  jest  in  the  servants'  hall,  a  sinister  figure  to 
myself.  I  am  not  fitted  for  these  brutalities.  You  will, 
sir,  take  notice  that  the  jest  is  ended;  and  a  little 
later  I  shall  look  to  you  for  the  reparation  usual  among 
gentlemen. 

Hector.  Go  on. 

Teleky.  I  have  finished. 

Hector.  Am  I  to  understand  that  this  is  a  challenge .? 

Teleky.  You  are,  sir. 

Hector.  Very  good.  I  hold  myself  in  readiness.  Never- 
theless, you  will  permit  me  to  make  one  or  two  obser- 
vations with  the  hope  that  they  may  have  some  signifi- 
cance in  that  higher  civilization  to  which  you  belong. 

Teleky.  As  you  will. 

Hector.  I  ask  you  to  observe  that  I  bear  a  relation 
of  some  responsibility  to  the  household  into  which  you 

[64] 


ACT  THIRD 

have  been  introduced.  You  are  a  stranger  whose  whole 
reputation  here  depends  upon  my  word.  You  have, 
through  me,  been  enabled  to  continue  an  intrigue, 
and  carry  it  I  know  not  how  far,  or  with  what  conse- 
quence to  the  heart  and  reputation  of  a  young  lady 
who  is  my  cousin. 

Teleky.  Sir! 

Hector.  I  say,  sir,  that  there  are  other  possible  causes 
for  a  duel  between  you  and  me  besides  those  which 
you  name.  Are  your  intentions  honourable.? 

Teleky.  How  dare  you  speak  of  honour!  You  know 
they  are  honourable.  You  know  that  what  grieves  me 
most  in  all  this  is  that  I  see  the  sanctity  of  a  young 
lady's  nature  being  exposed  to  outrage. 

Hector.  Through  whom.^^ 

Teleky.  Her  soul  exposed  to  vulgar  ridicule. 

Hector.  Through  whom.'* 

Teleky.  I  do  not  excuse  myself.  I  am  grievously  to 
blame.  But  it  shall  finish. 

Hector.  Through  marriage.? 

Teleky.  Thi'ough  marriage. 

Hector  {grasps  Ms  hand).  My  dear  fellow,  I  con- 
gratulate you.  I  knew  I  could  not  be  mistaken  in  you. 
The  young  lady  consents.? 

[65] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

Teleky.  Not  exactly. 

Hector.  Not  exactly?  But  it  is  an  occasion  where 
exactitude  is  required. 

Teleky.  When  I  propose  it  she  sheers  away,  as  if 
the  time  for  decisions  had  not  yet  come.  God  forgive 
me  that  I  tell  you  this. 

Hector.  Why,  my  dear  friend !  Come,  you  are  worn 
out.  You  people  of  the  North  are  all  fire  and  brimstone, 
and  burn  yourselves  to  ashes.  You  do  not  understand 
us  in  Italy,  Come,  sit  down.  You  are  in  love.  You  need 
help  and  council,  not  duels ;  and  if  there  was  ever  a 
man  fitted  to  give  you  honest  aid, — a  man  who  wants 
to  see  you  honestly  married  to  this  girl, — it  is  Hector 
Bononcini.  You  believe  that.'^ 

Teleky.  I  try  to  believe  it.  But  m  your  carnival 
game  I  feel  that  I  am  somehow  one  of  the  pieces.  I 
should  not  be  wholly  surprised  if  I  found  that  you 
were  trying  to  marry  the  girl  yourself.  There,  I  con- 
fess it. 

Hector.  Good.  But  would  she  marry  me.?  No — you 
are  sure  of  that.  Sit  down.  You  need  a  glass  of  wine. 
{Pours  one  out.)  Now  let  me  talk  to  you.  She  will 
not  marry  anybody.  {Teleky  starts.)  You  are  a  for- 
eigner. Now  let  me  tell  you  that  there  exists  in  Italy 

[66] 


ACT  THIRD 

a  well-known  type  of  woman  whose  romanticism — 
precludes  marriage.  Do  not  be  startled — precludes 
the  ordinary  forms,  modes,  fuss,  and  machinery  of  so- 
cial unions.  Had  you  been  an  Italian,  you  would  have 
understood  this  instinctively.  You  would  have  been 
over  the  back-yard  wall  and  in  Venice  together  by  this 
time, — married  on  the  way. 

Teleky.  The  thought  is  revolting  to  me.  "Over  the 
back-yard  wall,"  like  a  criminal. 

Hector.  Do  not  be  critical.  You  are  in  the  presence 
of  a  natural  phenomenon.  If  you  insist  on  etiquette 
and  convention,  you  will  become  the  last  rejected 
suitor  of  la  Furia  di  Bologna.  It  is  her  weakness,  her 
fate,  her  calamity.  How  have  you  won  her  thus  far 
but  by  obedience  to  the  higher  law  of  her  nature.? 

Teleky  {mutters).  It  is  true. 

Hector.  She  clings  to  you.  She  fears  that  you  will 
betray  her,  as  the  rest  have  done.  She  is  Andromeda 
on  the  rock  waiting  for  her  Perseus.  Are  you  he.?  Or 
will  you  break  into  visiting-cards  and  worldly  wisdom, 
into  lands,  houses  and  titles.?  She  is  rich;  there  is  the 
poison.  Oh,  the  poison  of  money !  It  corrupts  everyone. 
It  has  left  a  sort  of  wound  of  insanity  on  her.  There 
is  no  denying  this:  it  is  true. 

[67  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Telehy.  Even  so,  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  play 
upon  her  weakness. 

Hector  {shrugs).  Now,  my  dear  Stephen,  do  as  you 
please.  Declare  yourself  and  leave  her  broken-hearted, 
if  you  must.  You  have  your  own  nature  and  destiny, 
your  prevailing  passion  for  honour  and  uprightness, 
— which  seems  to  me  as  insane  as  her  own  fantasia, — 
but  I  cannot  control  either  of  you.  There,  go.  I  am 
engaged  in  throwing  together  a  drama,  and  I  have 
troubles  of  my  own. 

Teleky  {takes  Ms  hand  sadly).  Thank  you,  my 
friend.  {Going.) 

Hector.  Oh,  by  the  way,  we  are  going  to  have  a  little 
entertainment  at  the  Contessa's  this  afternoon, — a 
very  usual  thing  in  Italy.  You  might  mention  it  to 
the  Contessa  when  you  see  her.  You  are  cousin  and  so 
forth.  It's  a  surprise  party,  but  they  might  want  to 
prepare  something  to  eat. 

Teleky.  More  of  the  inferno  ? 

Hector  (m  his  ear,  with  great  energy).  Get  out  of  it ! 

[Exit  Teleky. 
Enter  Andrea, 

Hector.  All  safe? 
Andrea.  Nothing,  signer. 

[68] 


ACT  THIRD 

Hector.  Andrea,  have  you  a  copy  of  Shakespeare's 
plays  about  you? 

Andrea.  Signore? 

Hector.  It  might  be  safer,  after  all,  if  I  wrote  at 
the  library.  And,  Andrea,  I  shall  not  return  before 
evening.  You  must  lock  the  doors  and  keep  yourself 
in  this  room.  I  will  have  your  supper  sent  up.  You 
may  have  seen  an  apparition.  At  any  rate  it  is  safer 
so.  Roll  up  those  dresses;  I  will  send  for  them.  It  is 
better  so,  much  better.  {^Fakes  his  hat  and  exit. 

Andrea.  The  coward!  {Lurches  distractedly  about  the 
room  collecting  costumes.)  What  are  these  revels,  these 
wild  companions  ?  The  Hungarian  is  a  weakling,  that's 
plain.  They  don't  play  cards,  yet  I  am  sure  my  master 
is  robbing  him.  And  Donna  Julia — the  black-hearted 
scoundrel! — Shakespeare — have  I  a  copy  of  Shake- 
speare! He  writes  all  day.  {Approaches  the  table  and 
fumbles  the  papers ;  Jinds  the  draft  letter  to  the  Contessa, 
stares,  takes  it  7ip,  goes  into  dumfounded  amazement, 
throws  up  his  hands  to  heaven.)  Ah,  the  malefactor! 
He  is  seeking  to  marry  another  woman.  The  burglar! 
The  traitor!  Ah,  Donna  Julia,  Donna  Julia.  {Knock- 
ing at  the  door.  Andrea  starts,  puts  back  the  paper. 
More  knocking.  Andrea  feigns  sleep  and  snores.  More 

[69] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

knocking".  Andrea  feigns  awakening.)  Who's  that? 

Julia  {without).  Let  me  in! 

Andrea  {aside).  Her  voice!  {Aloud.)  No  one  is  at 
home. 

Julia  {without).  Let  me  in,  Andrea !  Let  me  in ! 

Andrea.  No,  Donna  Julia.  You  cannot  come  in.  I 
am  not — I  am  not  dressed. 

Jidia  {without).  Then  you  will  have  time  to  dress 
while  I  am  summoning  people  to  break  down  the  door. 

Andrea.  Patience,  signora,  I  am  coming.  I  have 
orders  to  admit  no  one. 

Jidia  {without).  But  that  does  not  include  me ! 

Andrea.  Of  course  not.  Why  did  I  not  think  of 
that? 

(Unlocks  door.  EfUter  Julia.  She  is  handsome,  fat 
and  much  dressed.  She  pidls  off  her  gloves  and 
throws  them  down,  arranges  her  hair  at  a  mirror, 
Sfc.) 

Julia.  They  denied  he  was  here,  downstairs,  and 
gave  me  some  trouble.  He  must  have  bought  new 
clothes  in  Bologna.  How  is  my  Hector?  Has  he  been 
much  fatigued  by  those  lawyers? 

Andrea.  Lawyers,  madame? 

Julia.  He  told  me  it  was  lawyers  he  must  see.  Who 

[70] 


ACT  THIRD 

are  they?  I  must  see  them  myself,  privately,  and  find 
out. 

Andrea.  Lawyers,  madame? 

Julia.  Yes,  idiot! 

Andrea.  My  master  has  seen  no  lawyers  in  Bologna. 

Julia.  What !  Who  has  he  seen  ? 

Andrea.  Gentlemen,  ladies,  the  nobility,  the  fashion, 
the  gay  world. 

Julia.  His  family? 

Andrea.  Yes,  signora.  {Under  pretence  of  doing  up 
the  bundle  he  is  exposing  the  costumes.) 

Julia.  There  were  ladies,  —  something  about  a  will, 
—  two  old  maids. 

Andrea.  Old  maids? 

Jidia.  What's  the  matter  with  the  man?  What  are 
those  things?  Wigs?  Costumes?  {She  pulls  open  the 
bundle  and  throios  the  things  about.) 

Andrea.  A  masquerade,  signora. 

Julia.  He  is  going  to  a  masquerade? 

Andrea.  He  is  organizing  them. 

Jidia.  Organizing  masquerades  in  Bologna?  {With 
stiddenfurij.)  "Who  is  she?  Who  is  the  woman?  Tell 
me,  or  I  will  choke  you  to  death.  {She  seizes  Mm  by 
the  throat  and  drags  him  about  the  room.)  I  knew  it,  I 

[  71  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

guessed  it,  I  dreamed  it,  I  felt  it  in  my  anatomy.  Every 
bone  ached  with  it  when  he  left  me.  He  is  deserting 
me,  and  has  not  the  courage  to  tell  me  so.  Give  me 
her  name,  or  I  will  tear  you  to  pieces !  You  are  his  ac- 
complice! Give  me  her  name. 

Andrea.  Help!  Mercy!  Patience,  signora! 

Julia.  He  is  as  lewd  as  a  monkey,  a  chameleon,  a 
dastardly  sot.  Tell  me  her  name! 

Andrea.  Mercy! 

Julia.  He  has  ruined  more  women  than  he  has  hairs 
on  his  head.  But  the  avenger  is  on  his  track !  Tell  me 
the  hussey's  name !  {Shakes  him  till  his  teeth  chatter.) 

Andrea  {gidping  and  spidtering).  Pardon,  mercy, 
forgive,  let  me  speak.  Signora,  calm  yourself  I  {Every 
time  he  says  one  of  these  things,  she  shakes  him  more 
violently.  At  last  she  throws  him  to  the  floor.) 

Jidia.  Well,  will  you  speak.? 

Andrea.  Give  me  a  moment — water — where  am  I? 
—  on  the  table.  It  is  not  what  you  think. 

Julia.  Water?  Where  is  it.? 

Andrea.  On  the  table, — the  letter — the  letter — 
{Julia  at  last  finds  the  draft  letter,  reads  it  and  screams.) 

Julia.  Marriage !  He  fled  from  Paris  like  a  thief  in 
the  night  to  marry,  to  marry!  He  leaves  me  like  a 

[72] 


ACT  THIRD 

broken  toy!  But  I  will  find  him!  I  will  tear  his  eyes 
from  his  head!  Andrea,  you  helped  him  escape! 

Andrea  (on  his  knees,  his  clasped  hands  in  the  air). 
No,  signora!  I  swear  by  the  seven  sacraments. 

Julia.  But  if  you  did  I  '11  rip  you  up  like  an  old 
shoe.  You  gave  him  the  parcel.? 

Andrea.  Yes,  signora. 

Julia.  What  did  he  say.? 

Andrea.  He  laughed.  He  said  you  might  follow  him, 
but  you  should  not  find  him  till  his  business  in  Bo- 
logna was  finished. 

Jidia.  Furies  of  Satan!  Can  you  find  him.? 

Andrea.  I  think  so,  signora. 

Jidia  (sinks  on  a  chair  gesticidating,  muttering'  and 
biting  her  nails).  I  will  find  him,  I  will  find  him! 

SCENE  SECOND 

The  Contessa's  Boudoir 

Teleky  and  Angela. 

Angela.  What  shall  I  call  thee .?  For  no  name  seems 

best 

But  Orpheus,  the  singing  troubadour 

That  trod  the  slippery  path  from  Erebus 

[73] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

And  drew  his  bride  behind.  His  godhke  head 
Beshone  the  jagged  vaultings  of  the  night, 
Gilding  the  groins, — till  Pluto's  architect 
Sees  his  own  work. 

TeleT<:y.  Nay,  but  he  lost  her. 

Angela.  How  much  one  moment  throws  its  mean- 
ing back 
On  all  the  years  before  it !  All  my  griefs 
Seem  to  have  been  a  childish  kind  of  sport. 

Teleky.  Beware  of  looking  back,  Eurydice ! 

Angela.  I  felt  a  kind  of  pain  in  meeting  men, 
As  if  I  were  a  chattel.  Yet  within, 
I  longed  to  know  them.  Orpheus,  with  you, 
All  is  a  journey  of  discovery; 
Nor  pain,  nor  doubt,  nor  conquest  of  myself, 
But  all  oblation.  Say  that  we  agree 
That  you,  in  God's  own  time,  shall  marry  me. 

TeleT<:y.  Say  we  agree  in  all,  why  not  in  this.? 
You,  when  I  begged  it,  put  the  gift  away, 
Which  now  you  offer. 

Angela.  Hush,  I  hear  a  step. 

Enter  Lucia. 
Lucia.  If  I  may  enter,  I  have  news  for  you. 

Angela.  Lucia,  of  all  the  sisters  in  the  world 

[74] 


ACT  THIRD 

Thou  art  the  faithfulest.  I  could  not  wish, 
Being  alone,  that  thou  shouldst  not  be  by; 
Or  being  left  with  one  who  is  myself. 
Thou  shouldst  not  enter. 
I  am  affianced  to  this  gentleman. 

Lucia.  God  give  you  joy — and  you,  my  newest 
brother ! 

Angela.  Give  us  thy  counsel  now,  my  sweet  Lucia, 
Who  hast  a  hand  in  all  things.  Yesterday 
I  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  speedy  marriage. 
To-morrow  I  could  wed. 

Lucia.  You  are  too  cold, 

Too  sour-green  and  backward  in  the  bud. 
Thus  to  reward  Love's  years  of  adoration 
With  promise  of  to-morrow.  Wed  to-day ! 

Angela.  If  I  do  blush,  you  are  the  cause  of  it. 

Lucia.  Blushes  are  flags  of  truce ;  or,  better  said, 
The  cheeks  they  leave  are  such. 
But  come,  halt,  consider,  reflect,  hearken. 

Angela.  What-f* 

Telekij.  "What? 

Lucia.  Are  you  calm  ?  First,  sir,  you  are  under  sus- 
picion. 

Teleky.  I  know — Hippolito. 

[75] 


A   SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

Lucia.  There  is  to  be  an  examination,  an  inquest. 

Teleky.  How? 

Lucia.  A  tribunal. 

Telelcy.  I,  before  a  tribunal? 

Lucia.  Nonsense !  Explain  to  him,  Angela.  It's  the 
simplest  thing  in  the  world.  When  Hippolito  asks 
him  if  he  remembers  the  red  cat, — he  must  remember 
the  red  cat.  That  is  all. 

Angela  (to  Teleky).  Sweet  one,  you  can  play  a  harm- 
less game,  a  joke,  since  we  are  in  it? 

Teleky.  I  will  try.  (Sighs  heavily.) 

Lucia.  There!  But  now  for  the  real  news!  The 
Prince  has  made  a  formal  application  for  the  hand  of 
Angela. 

Angela.  I  knew  it  would  come!  It  is  a  disease  of 
mankind.  Of  course  the  Prince  applies.  It  is  a  joke  too 
— a  game  too.  O  my  beloved,  take  it  not  so  seriously. 
What  do  we  care? 

Teleky.  When  did  he  do  this? 

Lucia.  Just  now. 

Teleky.  Inexplicable!  He  does  not  mean  it! 

Angela  {to  Lucia).  Leave  us,  Lucia;  I  will  explain 
to  him. 

Lucia  {at  the  door,  to  Angela).  If  you  will  take  a 

[76] 


ACT  THIRD 

hint  from  me, — there  is  to  be  such  a  tempest  of  fool- 
ery here  this  afternoon  as  the  world  has  not  seen 
since  the  Tower  of  Babel.  In  the  midst  of  it,  you  and 
the  poet  could  slip  off  to  Venice,  and  be  no  more  no- 
ticed than  a  pair  of  sparrows  in  an  earthquake.  Think 
of  it,  Angela.  (Eccit  Lucia.  Reenter  Lucia.  To  Angela.) 
The  carriage  is  ordered.  It  is  to  be  in  waiting  in  the 
alley.  [EaU  Lucia. 

Angela  (to  Telehy).  My  own,  why  does  this  down- 
cast you  ?  I  have  had  offers  of  marriage  that  brought 
me  distress ;  but  this  one  brings  me  only  amusement. 
And  besides,  besides,  this  one  will  never  be  considered, 
for,  before  the  time  comes  for  the  answer,  Orpheus, 
my  Orpheus,  will  have  carried  me  out  of  Hades.  You 
will  run  off  with  me  to  Venice  this  afternoon. 

Telehy.  Spirit  of  my  life,  I  would  not  marry  you 
As  if  you  were  a  weak  backsliding  nun 
That  with  her  lover  scales  a  convent  wall. 
All  we  have  felt  is  true;  yet  in  this  world 
Are  shrines  of  truth  beside  the  shrines  we  build. 

Angela  {with  sudden  suspicion).  What  say  you.? 
.    Teleky.  My  father  is  a  prince  of  Hungary, 
And  for  a  thousand  years  our  house  has  wed 
Beneath  the  spreading  sanction  of  the  Church. 

[  77  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Angela  {with  rising  anger).  What  mean  you  ? 

Teleliy.  I  speak  not  for  myself,  but  for  my  race, 
A  proud,  old,  feeble  father, — loving  me. 
And  counting  it  dishonour  and  reproach 
To  take  the  backward  road  to  anything. 

Angela.  You  are  a  prince !  You  came  here  in  dis- 
guise ! 

Teleky.  Yes, — yes, — yes, — yes. 

Angela.  But  all  must  be  conventional  and  smooth. 
You  would  not  tread  except  upon  red  carpet. 

Teleliy.  No, — no,  no,  no.  You  do  not  understand. 

Angela.  You  have  a  father  and  a  history, 
Titles  and  lands. 

But  ready  cash? 
These  princely  lovers  are  not  rich  in  cash. 

Teleky.  Eight  thousand  golden  florins  every  month 
To  squander  if  I  will. 

Angela.  It  was  not  for  my  money? 

Teleky.  Patient  God, 

Deliver  what  I  strive  to  say  to  her! 
I  cannot  reach  her. 

Angela.  You  are  one  of  them! 

Owned  by  possessions,  minions  to  their  names, 
Appendages  to  paltry  histories, 

[78] 


ACT  THIRD 

Who  crawl  about  till  they  perpetuate 
The  line  they  worship.  O  my  God,  my  God! 
Go,  sir!  You  cannot  know  what  you  have  done. 
Go!  I  am  breaking.  Leave  me.  Send  Lucia. 
And  I  who  thought  that  I  had  found  a  man ! 
Teleky.  Eurydice! 

Angela.  Go,  go,  I  say!  How  dare  you  say  the  word.'' 
Your  manhood  is  a  kind  of  poetry. 
But  you  yourself  are  nothing.  Go,  go,  go ! 
You  are  a  fringe  upon  a  robe  of  state, 
But  not  a  man.  Go  wear  your  titles  out. 
And  drag  your  frippery  about  the  world 
With  one  who  is  your  equal.  {Sits  down  and  sobs,  us- 
ing her  handkerchief.) 
And  I  who  thought  that  I  had  found  a  man! 
The  walls  are  closing  in!  I  must  not  weep 
In  public  with  a  foreign  prince  to  see. 
Go  and  report  that  the  Italian  girls 
Are  very  fond  in  love — you  found  them  so. 
To  think  a  lath  like  you  can  break  a  heart ! 
Go,  go,  go !  Leave  me,  leave  me  alone. 
And  use  your  gentle  breeding  to  forget  me. 
Repeat  it  not — you  are  a  gentleman. 
Teleky.  Eurydice! 

Angela.  Ah,  Orpheus!  Forgive  me,  forgive  me! 

[79] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

My  Orpheus,  will  you  forgive  me? 

{She  falls  on  his  neck  and  embraces  him  with  as  m,uch 
fervour  as  can  he  shown  on  the  stage,  saying,  ^^  For- 
give me,  forgive  me.^^  She  continues  to  weep  and 
to  kiss  him,  until  the  poor  man  is  limp,  wet  and 
dishevelled.) 

Forgive  me,  love,  it  shall  be  as  you  say. 

Teleky.  Nay,  you  shall  have  your  way,  my  darling 
girl. 
It  is  the  way  to  save  you. 

Angela.  Let  it  go — 

I  can  go  through  with  all. 

Teleky.  But  so  can  L 

Let  us  regain  ourselves,  my  beautiful; 
Let  us  regain  the  sphere  of  central  light, 
Going  or  staying. 

Angela.  There  spoke  my  Orpheus! 

The  Abbe  and  my  aunt  are  coming  here. 
We  must  escape.  Go  to  the  garden,  dear. 

\Exeunt  severally  hy  different  doors. 

Enter  the  Contessa,  the  Abbe  and  Bobo,  in  earnest  talk. 
Bobo.  So  we  went  to  the  prefect  of  the  police  to- 
gether, and  I  introduced  the  Prince  to  the  prefect  and 
described  Fifi,  and  the  prefect  was  most  kind.  There 

have  been  several  robberies  in  this  neighbourhood 

[    80] 


ACT  THIRD 

lately.  The  prefect  has  given  orders  to  have  the  palazzo 
watched  by  his  best  men  for  several  days.  He  thinks 
that  this  theft  may  be  merely  the  prelude  to  some 
more  important  robbery. 

Contessa.  Good  heavens,  Bobo!  The  palazzo  under 
police  supervision.? 

Abbe.  Calm  yourself,  dear  madame,  you  are  in  good 
hands. 

Bobo.  It  appears  that  the  most  ambitious  and  re- 
sourceful criminals  sometimes  disguise  themselves  as 
gentlefolk  and  thus  gain  an  entry  into  the  houses  of 
rich  people;  and  when  they  have  gained  knowledge, 
and  being  free  from  all  suspicion — 

Abbe  (to  Contessa,  raising-  his  hand).  What  did  I 
tell  you.? 

Contessa.  This  is  terrifying. 

Abbe.  We  must  take  Bobo  into  our  confidence. 
Bobo,  after  the  prince  had  left  us  last  night  a  serious 
thing  occurred, — yes,  I  say  it,  serious.  And  had  not 
I,  by  the  grace  of  Heaven,  been  present — 

Bobo.  What,  Abbe.? 

Abbe.  Hippolito  fails  to  identify  Hector  as  Hector. 
Hippolito  declares  that  the  individual  who  is  now 
walking  in  the  garden  with  Angela  is  an  unknown 

[81    ] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

person.  Hippolito  swears  it,  by  certain  signs  and  marks 
known  to  himself. 

Boho.  With  Angela! 

Ahhe.  An  impostor! 

Boho.  Horrible! 

Ahbe.  Softly,  softly.  I  have  been  talking  to  the  Con- 
tessa  of  the  necessity  of  assuring  ourselves  before  tak- 
ing any  action.  We  must  confront  the  false  Hector 
with  Hippolito  in  pleno  consilio. 

Bobo.  When? 

Abbe.  Now.  Bobo,  would  you  kindly  step  into  the 
garden,  and  ask  the  individual  if — if  he  could  kindly 
step  this  way.  The  Contessa  would  be  obliged.  And, 
on  your  way  back,  would  you  call  up  Hippolito  and 
give  him  a  hint  as  to  why  he  is  wanted.  He'll  come 
willingly  enough,  I  warrant. 

Bobo.  Certainly.  I  will  remain  with  Angela. 

[Exit  Bobo. 

Abbe.  Rely  upon  me,  madame.  I  have  conducted 
many  examinations. 

Contessa.  There  is  a  providence  in  it  all.  Abbe,  and 
in  this  demand  from  the  Prince.  Think  now,  just  as 
we  discover — as  perhaps  we  may — that  we  have  been 
imposed  upon  by  a  criminal, — and  people  will  talk, 

[82] 


ACT  THIRD 

you  know, — just  as  poor  Angela  has  this  humiliation, 
her  hand  is  sought  in  marriage  by  the  hereditary  grand 
standard-bearer  of  the  Hungarian  monarchy.  It  is 
Providence,  Abbe! 

Abhe.  By  sagacious  management, madame,  by  insight 
and  the  ability  to  unravel  mysteries — {Enter  Telelcy. 
To  Teleky,  with  pomposity.)  Good  evening,  sir.  Will 
you  have  the  goodness  to  bestow  upon  us  some  few 
moments  of  your  time?  {He  has  seated  himself  and  the 
Contessa,  as  it  were,  in  seats  of  Judgement,  leaving" 
Teleky  to  stand.)  It  has  become  my  duty,  sir,  to  in- 
form you  that  certain  doubts  have  arisen  in  the  house- 
hold concerning  your — ah — identity.  And  you  will 
not  think  it  unreasonable,  I  know,  after  so  long  an 
absence,  if  you  are  given  an  opportunity  to,  ah,  to  set 
them  at  rest, — set  them  at  rest.  As  an  old  friend  of 
the  family  — 

Teleky.  Certainly,  signor,  {Bows  andjidgets.  Enter 
Hippolito.) 

Hippolito.  Madame  desires  me? 

Ahhe.  Hippolito,  will  you  kindly  state  over  again 
what  you  said  to  the  Contessa  and  to  myself  last  even- 
ing as  to  the  identity  of  Signor  Hector. 

Hippolito.  \,  Monsieur  I'Abbe  ? 

[83] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Contessa.  What  you  said  about  not  recognizing  him. 

Hippolito.  I,  signora? 

Abhe.  About  the  ear. 

Contessa.  About  his  running  away. 

Hippolito.  About  his  running  away.?  Ah,  Signor 
Hector,  as  if  he  could  run  away  from  his  old  Hippo- 
lito !  I  have  loved  him  since  he  was  so  high.  My  little 
Hector!  I  not  know  my  little  Hector!  {He  approaches 
Teleky  and  fawns  upon  him.)  Pardon,  signor,  it  is  true 
there  was  a  scar  on  his  ear.  Behold  it! 

Contessa.  And  the  tank — 

Hippolito.  The  tank.?  Did  you  not  fall  in  the  tank? 

Teleky  {with  extreme  effort).  I  did. 

Hippolito.  And  came  to  stay  with  Hippolito  at  the 
farmhouse.? 

Telehy.  In  winter  time. 

Hippolito.  Ah,  ah !  Of  course,  in  winter  time. 

Teleky.  And  helped  with  the  olives. 

Hippolito.  The  olives!  He  made  himself  sick  on 
them. 

Telelcy.  And  there  was  a  red  cat. 

Hippolito.  And  seven  small  kittens  that  he  saved 
from  drowning,  and  nursed  in  his  hat, — the  tender- 
hearted child!  I  weep  when  I  remember  it. 

[  84  J 


ACT  THIRD 

Contessa  (to  Abbe).  Abbe,  you  are  wi'ong.  He  is 
Hector. 

Abbe  (to  Contessa).  It  is  a  conspiracy;  Hippolito 
has  been  bribed.  (To  Hippolito  with  great  vehemence.) 
Did  you  not  say  last  night  that  this  gentleman  was 
not  Hector  Bononcini.? 

Hippolito.  I,  Monsieur  TAbbe?  I  was  so  excited  at 
the  thought  of  seeing  him  that  I  know  not  what  I 
may  have  said. 

Contessa.  Abbe,  we  have  wronged  our  kinsman. 
Hector,  the  flighty  conduct  of  an  old  servant  has  led  to 
our  doing  you  almost  an  outrage.  You  will  forgive  us 
under  the  circumstances,  will  you  not?  (Teleky  bows.) 

Hippolito.  Ah,  my  little  Hector,  that  I  should  have 
been  the  cause  of  giving  you  embarrassment!  (To 
Contessa.)  He  has  told  me  all  the  things  that  ever  we 
did  together  since  he  was  four  years  old.  He  has  re- 
called my  younger  days,  and  Signor  Bononcini,  your 
husband's  benevolence  when  the  three  of  us  went  to 
the  village  together. 

Contessa.  Hippolito,  you  are  a  good  soul,  you  may 
go.  (Exit  Hippolito.)  Hector,  I  thank  you  for  your 
forbearance.  Really,  Abbe,  I  think  you  owe  him  an 
apology. 

[85] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Ahhe.  Since  the  Contessa  desires  it.  {To  Teleky.) 
Pray,  sir,  accept  my  regrets  for  this  interview.  (Holds 
out  his  hand.  Teleky  bows  stiffly,  without  taking  it.) 

Teleky  {to  Contessa).  I  may  take  my  leave,  madame.? 

[Bows  sfiffly,  and  exit. 

Contessa.  You  have  offended  him. 

Ahhe.  There  is  something  wi'ong.  Confide  yourself 
to— 

Contessa.  You  did  not  apologize  with  sufficient  sin- 
cerity. 

Ahhe.  We  are  not  at  the  bottom  of  this  imbroglio — 

Contessa.  You  have  insulted  my  guest. 

Ahhe.  Have  confidence — 

Contessa.  You  were  wi-ong,  you  were  wrong.  You 
have  involved  me  in  an  injustice. 

Ahhe.  My  long  services  — 

Contessa.  You  have  distressed  an  innocent  man. 

Ahhe.  My  sincere  labours — 

Contessa.  I  am  in  the  toils  of  circumstances  which 
I  do  not  understand;  and,  Abbe,  I  am  beginning  not 
to  trust  you! 


[86] 


ACT  IV 

SCENE  FIRST 

The  Corridor  outside  the  Dra wing-Room  Doors 

The  Abbe  and  the  Contessa  dressed  for  the  street. 

CoNTEssA.  The  Prince  tells  me  in  his  letter  that  he 
is  to  pay  us  a  visit  this  afternoon.  And  it  is  also  the 
afternoon  of  the  Apostles  of  the  Poor — they  come  on 
Tuesdays.  And  I  am  also  obliged  to  go  to  see  my 
cousin  Dorotea  because  she  says  she  is  dying. 

AhbL  She  is  not  dying,  madame. 

Contessa.  How  can  you  tell  she  is  not  dying,  Abbe? 

Abbe.  Because  she  always  says  that. 

Contessa.  A  woman  cannot  die  more  than  once,  can 
she?  Abbe,  your  brutality  astonishes  me. 

Abbe.  Ah,  I  know  I  have  lost  credit  with  you,  si- 
gnora.  I  followed  you  to  the  door  to  ask  a  favour  of 
you. 

Contessa.  Well,  Abbe? 

Abbe.  Something  is  expected  this  afternoon  in  the 
way  of  a  masquerade,  or  a  surprise  party,  by  the 
Prince  ? 

Contessa.  Yes,  Abbe. 

Abbe.  It  is  sure  to  be  on  foot  before  you  return,  be- 

[87] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

cause  it  is  impossible  for  you  to  get  back  before  four 
o'clock. 

Contessa.  Yes,  Abbe. 

AbhL  The  Apostles  of  the  Poor  will  arrive  in  the 
midst  of  this,  and  it  may  be  well  that  someone  should 
be  here  to  explain  matters,  and  make  them  feel  at 
home  till  you  arrive. 

Contessa.  True,  Abbe,  you  are  all  kindness. 

Ahhe.  Now  I  would  not  for  a  moment  arouse  ground- 
less suspicion ;  yet  both  of  us  know  that  strange  things 
are  happening  in  this  house, — Fifi's  disappearance — 

Contessa.  Yes,  yes. 

Abbe.  Do  I  have  your  permission  to  depart  with  you 
now,  as  if  I  were  going  to  accompany  you,  and  then 
to  return  by  the  servants'  door  in  order  to  be  on  the 
watch, — for  protection, — for  information? 

Contessa.  Why,  I  see  no  objection  to  that.  You  are 
a  true  fi'iend  after  all. 

Ahbe  Qcisses  her  hand).  Ah,  Contessa, — to  serve  you ! 

[Exeunt. 
Enter  Hippolito. 

Hippolito.  I  care  nothing  about  that  young  man. 
He  is  as  cold  as  the  nose  of  a  dog.  He  is  ashamed  of 
himself.  But  for  Hector  I  will  do  anything!  {Knock- 

[  88] 


ACT  FOURTH 

ing  at  front  door.  HippoUto  opens.,  and  enter,  in  hurly- 
hurly.  Hector,  Giacomo,  Pietro,  Rufredo,  Sarragossa 
and  Boho^Jollowed  hy  servants  hearing  hu7idles.  Hec- 
tor has  a  manuscript  in  his  hands.  They  take  off  their 
hats  and  coats  and  deposit  their  canes,  all  talking  at 
once.) 

Hector.  I  have  the  scheme  of  it. 

Voices.  Give  us  our  parts, 

Pietro.  The  plot,  the  plot! 

Hector  (to  HippoUto).  Are  the  ladies  at  home  ? 

HippoUto.  Yes,  signor,  except  the  Contessa,  who 
returns  a  little  later. 

Hector.  Good.  We  will  have  a  rehearsal.  We  can 
dress  in  the  dining-room.  You  will  have  something  to 
eat  for  us  afterwards.? 

HippoUto.  Yes,  signor. 

Hector  {in  a  lower  voice).  Is  the  chaise  ordered  ? 

HippoUto.  Yes,  signor. 

Hector.  Leave  a  step-ladder  in  the  garden  by  the 
wall.  {HippoUto  assents.  Hector  to  the  rest.)  Come 
along  all  of  you.  ^a  ira,  9a  ira! 

Sarragossa  {to  HippoUto  as  he  passes).  Return  in 
five  minutes.  I  must  speak  to  you  alone. 

{^Exeunt  Hector,  Pietro,  Rvfredo,  Sarragossa, 
Boho  and  bearers  of  bundles. 

[89] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Hippolito.  Here's  a  business!  Hector  has  enchanted 
the  whole  city.  He  would  make  the  Santi  Apostoli 
sing  like  cantatrici.  He  is  like  Lucifer  before  the  fall. 
He  is  an  archangel. 

Enter  Sarragossa  as  a  Roman  general,  in  a  costume 
rather  too  small  for  him. 

Sarragossa.  Help  me  here,  Hippolito. 

Hippolito  {helps  button).  Magnificent ! 

Sarragossa.  Not  bad,  eh  ?  It  is  the  dream  of  my 
life!  "Friends,  Romans,  countrymen:  My  heart  is  in 
the  coffin  there  with  Caesar,  and  I  must  pause  till  it 
come  back  to  me."  I  weep  thus.  (Shows  how  he  weeps.) 

Hippolito.  He  would  draw  tears  from  a  stone  image ! 

Sarragossa.  I  rage  thus.  {He  is  about  to  show  how 
he  rages,  but  checks  himself.)  The  Abbe  is  not  here, 
Hippolito.? 

Hippolito.  Never  fear;  he  has  just  gone  out  with 
the  Contessa. 

Sarragossa.  Apropos  {giviyigmonei/) — for  the  plate. 
You  protected  me  well,  old  Hippolito.  {Pau^e,  and 
as  an  afterthought,  gives  more  money.)  I  may  need  more 
plates.  What  a  man  is  that  Abbe!  A  sneak — a  scoun- 
drel !  If  I  could  but  once  show  up  the  true  nature  of 
that  low  caterpillar!  He  is  a  public  offence,  Hippolito, 

[90] 


ACT  FOURTH 

— a  stench  in  the  nostrils  of  all  honest  men. 

Hippolito.  I  can  tell  you  something  about  him.  But 
the  signor  sent  for  me? 

Sarragossa.  Yes,  but  my  business  can  wait.  If  you 
can  tell  me  something  against  that  Abbe,  it  can  wait 
for  an  hour. 

Hippolito  {mysteriously).  The  police  have  this  morn- 
ing apprehended  Matteo,  the  Abbe's  body-servant. 
They  found  him  hanging  about  the  palazzo.  What  do 
you  think  they  found  in  his  possession.?  {In  a  stage 
whisper.)  Fifi!  I  have  it  from  my  wife's  mother,  Mat- 
teo's  cousin's  aunt.  Fifi's  dead  body ! 

Sarragossa.  Found  in  the  possession  of  the  Abbe's 
body-servant !  He  puts  his  servant  to  watch  the  house, 
does  he.? — to  see  who  goes  in  and  out, — and  his  ser- 
vant is  found  with  Fifi's  dead  body !  Ha,  ha,  ha !  In  his 
possession!  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha!  The  dead  body!  Ha,  ha, 
ha,  ha,  ha!  Help  me,  Hippolito!  Ha,  ha!  Help  me, 
can't  you.?  Hup!  Hup!  Hup!  {Puts  his  hand  on  Hip- 
politc^s  shoulder.)  I  put  that  dog  in  the  recipient,  in 
the  public  waste-box,  on  the  street  corner  as  I  passed 
by,  on  leaving  the  palazzo  yesterday. 

Hippolito  {dumfounded).  You,  signore.? 

Sarragossa  {nodding  many  times  and  with  gesture 

[91] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

of  sitting  down).  An  accident!  Your  fault,  for  leaving 
the  dog  in  the  armchair.  {The  merriment  now  begins 
to  seize  Hippolito.)  Stop  it,  Hippolito,  stop  it ! 

Hippolito.  And  Matteo  picked  him  out! 

Sarragossa.  The  criminal!  The  low  thief! 

Hippolito.  But  the  necklace  is  gone. 

Sarragossa  {producing  it).  I  was  going  to  ask  you — 
what  shall  I  do  with  it  ?  I  have  been  carrying  it  about 
ever  since.  How  shall  I  return  it?  I  thought  you  might 
leave  it  somewhere  and  let  it  turn  up  later. 

Hippolito.  Like  the  dog, — to  give  trouble  to  some- 
body,— me  perhaps.  No,  no,  signor! 

Sarragossa.  Put  it  in  the  wood-box, — in  the  soiled 
clothes.  Or — I  have  it! — in  the  Abbe's  pocket! 

Hippolito.  Those  big  pockets  that  he  keeps  to  put 
bonbons  in  when  he  dines  out? 

Sarragossa.  Why  not?  He  must  be  used  to  finding 
all  sorts  of  things  in  them.  He  is  always  filling  them 
with  trash.  If  I  could  show  up  that  man  in  his  true 
light,  —  his  true  light,  Hippolito, — what  a  service  to 
the  Contessa! 

Hippolito.  Expose  him ! 

Sarragossa.  Unmask  him! 

Hippolito.  Show  the  world  what  he  is! 

[  92  ] 


ACT  FOURTH 

Sarragossa.  Caught  at  last! 

Hippolito.  Give  me  the  necklace.  {Takes  it.) 

[^Exit  Hippolito. 

Sarragossa  {with  solemnity).  This  is  Nemesis,  Abbe, 
Nemesis  that  stalks  in  darkness,  overtaking  the  work- 
ers of  iniquity !  This  is  the  power  of  private  fate  that 
delays  long,  yet  walks, — walks, — walks — {Noise  of  a 
plate  breaking.)  Help!  He  is  coming!  {Rushes  madly 
to  get  away;  but  as  he  takes  the  direction  of  the  front 
door,  he  returns  to  find  himself  face  to  face  with  the 
AbbL) 

Abbe.  Good  afternoon,  papa  Sarragossa.  You  take 
part  in  the  festivities  of  the  young  people,  I  see. 

Sarragossa.  How  dare  you  call  me  papa  Sarragossa.? 

Abbe.  Thafs  what  the  young  people  call  you. 

Sarragossa.  Why,  you  snake,  you  listening  reptil- 
ian, the  young  people  may  call  me  what  they  please. 
Shall  I  tell  you  what  they  call  you,  you  ophidian 
crawler? 

Abbe.  My  friend,  be  calm.  You  yourself  are  rather 
a  climber  than  a  crawler.  Our  Friday  Evenings  have 
never  been  the  same  since  you  were  admitted  to  them. 

Sarragossa.  Our  Friday  Evenings!  You  tame  cat! 
Do  you  own  this  palazzo?  Are  you  prime  minister.'* 

[93] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

That's  what  they  call  you, —  the  prime  minister. 

Ahhe.  Ha,  ha,  ha!  Very  good! 

Sarragossa.  Let  me  tell  you,  you  guzzling,  sinister 
ecclesiastic,  that  prime  ministers  have  falls,  dismissals, 
disgrace,  banishment. 

Abhe.  Come,  come,  Sarragossa.  I  suppose  that  if 
you  married  the  Contessa,  my  position  in  the  house 
would  not  be  quite  secure,  eh.''  {Takes  sniiff".) 

Sarragossa.  How  dare  you  place  your  obscene  paw 
upon  a  sacred  subject.'' 

Abbe.  But  you  can't,  you  see.  The  macaroni  is  in 
the  way. 

Sarragossa.  O  thou  heartless  scion  of  worldliness! 
Are  there  not  powers  on  earth  stronger  than  the  pre- 
judices of  a  bourgeois  nobility?  Is  there  not  love, 
poetry,  a  world  of  life  above  the  reach  of  intrigue  .f^ 

0  ye  stars  that  reigned  above  my  nativity,  look  down 
with  mercy  upon  the  uncomprehending  world  in  which 

1  move,  and  particularly  pity  this  slop-fed  son  of  a 
Sienese  apothecary  who  sees  ye  not.  {To  Abbe.)  Go!  I 
spurn  you. 

Bobo  {putting  his  head  in  through  the  drawing-room 
door).  Papa,  they  are  waiting  for  you. 

[94] 


ACT    FOURTH 

SCENE  SECOND 
Dra  wing-Room 

Telekyas  Romeo,  Rufredo  as  Shylock,  Pietro  as  Othello, 
Giacomo  as  a  court  fool,  Sarragossa  as  Mark  Antony, 
Angela  as  Juliet.  Hector,  Lucia  and  Boho  in  their 
tisual  apparel.  They  have  their  parts  and  are  reading 
them, 

Pietro  {very  crossly).  I  do  not  understand  this  play. 

Sarragossa  {to  Hector).  Signore,  signore !  You  have 
cut  out  the  best  parts  of  my  speech.  I  cannot  work 
myself  up  to  the  tears  without  going  through  a  cre- 
scendo. 

Rufredo.  Is  this  a  rehearsal  or  a  performance? 
{They  clamour  about  Hector.) 

Hector.  Once  for  all,  gentlemen,  I  must  have  dis- 
cipline. I  have  gone  all  lengths  in  giving  each  of  you 
the  roles  you  prefer.  With  discipline  and  good  nature 
all  will  go  well.  It  will  resolve  itself  into  a  series  of 
talking  tableaux. 

Telelcy  {aside  to  Hector).  I  must  tell  you,  sir,  that 
your  conduct  is  inexplicable.  I  have  consented  to  put 
on  this  dress  to  please  the  young  ladies,  but  I  must 
have  a  few  words  with  you  in  private. 

Hector  {to  Teleky).  Anything,  anything.  Only  a 

V^^  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

little  later,  please.  {To  Sarragossa.)  Signer  Sarragossa, 
wiU  you  pose  Romeo  and  Juliet  for  the  balcony  scene? 
You  understand  these  things. 

Sarragossa.  With  the  greatest  pleasure  in  life. 
{Does  so,  hustling  about  and  giving  orders.) 

Hector  {aside  to  Lucia).  You  must  help  me  with  all 
your  resources.  Certain  events  have  occurred  which 
may  lead  to  my — my  shortening  my  stay, — my  dis- 
appearance,— sudden  and  complete  disappearance.  I 
cannot  explain  more  fully.  We  must  succeed  in  forcing 
the  lovers  to  fly  within  this  hour. 

Lucia  {aside  to  Hector).  It  was  all  I  could  do  to  get 
them  into  their  costumes.  He  thinks  he  is  to  be  made 
fun  of. 

Hector.  Do  they  know  that  the  chaise  is  in  waiting.? 

Lucia.  Yes,  I  told  her. 

Hector.  Listen.  We  will  give  a  rehearsal  of  the  bal- 
cony scene.  After  that  we  will  give  Sarragossa  a  show 
over  the  bier  of  Caesar.  During  Antony's  speech,  no 
one  will  observe  the  lovers.  They  must  be  off. 

Lucia.  Beware  of  duels  in  the  drawing-room ! 

Hector.  Of  course — the  duel  is  for  to-morrow.  {To 
the  rest.)  Now  gentlemen,  attention !  Master  Romeo, — 
Madame  Juliet — 

[96] 


ACT  FOURTH 

Hippolito  {announcing).  The  Signori  the  Apostles  of 
the  Poor! 

Enter  Protocopoli,  Glusti,  Frescohaldi  and  Donato. 
They  are  quaint  old  fogies  very  unlike  each  other, 
but  alike  in  being  gallant  gentlemen  with  beautiful 
manners. 

Protocopoli  (to  Lucia,  who  has  come  forward).  Par- 
don, signorina.  We  intrude?  Monsieur  I'Abbe  told  us 
we  were  expected. 

Lucia.  You  are  most  welcome.  {Introducing.)  Prince 
Teleky,  —  my  cousin  Hector:  Cavaliere  Protocopoli, 
Conte  Giusti,  Commandante  Frescohaldi,  Signor  Do- 
nato,— members  of  a  benevolent  society,  the  Apostles 
of  the  Poor;  but,  I  should  say,  old  friends,  whom  we 
welcome  always. 

Hector.  Of  course.  But  we  will  give  a  performance 
for  your  charity  next  week.  And  you  are  come  in  time 
to  be  of  the  greatest  assistance  by  your  criticism.  Will 
you  not  sit  down  as  audience.? 

Protocopoli.  Charming! 

Giusti.  Most  gratifying! 

Frescobaldi.  Excellent  idea! 

Donato.  What  a  pleasure ! 

Protocopoli.  What  do  you  call  the  play.? 

Hector.  It  is  a  series  of  scenes  from  Shakespeare. 

[  97  ] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

Protocopoli.  Ah,  this  is  indeed  good  fortune. 
Hector.  You  know  we  Italians  are  accused  of  tak- 
ing hberties  with  Shakespeare.  Nothing  is  more  un- 
just. We  simply  use  what  we  find. 
Giusti.  Most  interesting! 

Hector.  The  first  characters  to  appear  are  Romeo 
and  Juliet. 

{He  continues  to  talk  to  the  Apostoli  in  dumb-show. 
In  the  subseqiient  episode  Hector  never  quite  loses 
touch  with  the  Apostoli,  bid  uses  a  sort  of  running 
conversation  with  them  to  mash  his  odious  declara- 
tion to  Angela.) 

Teleliy  {aside  to  Angela).  This  is  a  most  atrocious 
outrage.  He  would  have  us  recite  those  divine  lines, 
while  he  laughs  in  his  sleeve. 

Angela.  Let  him  laugh,  it  will  not  hurt  us. 

Teleky.  He  will  make  love  to  you. 

Angela.  He  will  not  dare. 

Telehy.  He  is  an  open  suitor  for  your  hand. 

Angela.  He  will  not  dare,  my  sweet  one. 

Teleky.  If  he  does, 

I'll  run  him  through  the  body. 

Hector  {to  the  actors).  Now,  gentlemen.  {To  the 
Apostles.)  You  see,  this  side  of  the  drama  has  never 

been  understood. 

[98] 


ACT   FOURTH 

Teleky.  Am  I  to  begin? 

Hector.  If  you  please. 

Teleky  {as  Romeo,  to  Juliet).  "  By  a  name 
I  know  not  how  to  tell  thee  who  I  am. 
My  name,  dear  saint,  is  hateful  to  myself 
Because  it  is  an  enemy  to  thee." 

Hector.  Too  cold,  too  cold!  It  is  no  summary 
Made  by  a  sleepy  doctor  to  his  class, 
But  love  and  transportation. 

(To  Teleky.)  Stand  to  one  side  and  let  me  show  the  way. 
You  must  stand  closer  to  the  lady,  sir, 
And  let  some  natural  passion  fill  the  words. 
Excuse  me.  {To  Juliet.)  "By  a  name 
I  know  not  how  to  tell  thee  who  I  am. 
My  name,  dear  saint,  is  hateful  to  myself 
Because  it  is  an  enemy  to  thee."" 

{Protocopoli  and  the  rest  of  the  Apostles  applaud.) 

Protocopoli.  Magnificent,  wonderful.  {They  talk  and 
exclaim.  Hector  is  still  kneeling,  holding  Angela^ s  hand 
and  attempting  to  put  his  arm  round  her  waist.) 

Hector  {aside  to  Angela).  Darling,  I  love  thee!  All 
this  parody 
Is  but  a  frame  that  I  may  tell  thee  so. 
I  love  thee,  hotly,  fiercely,  terribly! 
Fly  with  me. 

[99] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

Angela  {aside  to  Hector).  Unhand  me,  sir!  How  dare 
you  speak  to  me! 
Unhand  me,  or  111  strike  you  in  the  face. 

Hector  (to  Angela).  Protesting  angel!  {Rises.  To 
the  Apostoli.)  All  amateurs,  you  know, 
Lack  passion.  'Tis  a  natural  defect, 
And  one  not  easily  cured. 

ProtocopoU.  You  are  a  master! 

Donato.  Truly,  wonderful. 

Hector.  Ah,  so-so, — my  hobby,  my  distraction. 

{Talks  to  the  Apostoli  in  dumb-show.) 
Teleky  {aside  to  Angela).  I  '11  have  his  blood  for 

this! 
Angela.  Not  here,  not  here! 

You  must  not  speak  to  him.  Not  here,  not  here. 
You  cannot,  shall  not. — Water!  I  am  ill. 

{Totters  to  a  chair.  General  commotion.  Somebody 
fetches  water.) 

Lucia.  Give  her  more  air.  A  momentary  qualm 
That  she  is  subject  to.  Give  her  more  air. 
Is  it  not  so,  my  sweet  one.?  Come  with  me. 
She  must  lie  down  a  moment. 

{Lucia  leads  Angela  out.  Hector  following^  very  so- 
licitous.) 

[  100] 


ACT  FOURTH 

Hector.  May  I  come? 

[^Exeunt  Angela  and  Lucia;  and,  hy  aiwther 
door,  exit  Telelcy. 

Hector  (returning).  Too  bad,  too  bad.  Now  for  our 
serious  work, — 
For  SaiTagossa  and  Mark  Antony. 

Reenter  Lucia. 

Lucia.  She  will  be  well  again  in  a  moment,  and  bids 
us  proceed. 

Hector.  Now,  lads,  masters,  senators,  populace,  you 
all  must  play.  We  must  have  the  Roman  scene  to  the 
life.  Caesar's  burial!  (He  works  with  great  activity, 
pulling  out  the  large  Italian  chest  which  is  to  serve 
a*  the  bier,  Sfc.  Everybody  works  furiously,  pjdling 
about  rugs  and  chairs.)  Caesar !  We  have  no  body  of 
Caesar ! 

A  voice.  Bobo,  take  Bobo. 

Another  voice.  His  nose  will  not  do. 

A  third  voice.  Too  much  hair — Caesar  was  bald. 

Protocopoli.  Why  cannot  I  take  a  part  in  this  pic- 
ture? Behold  my  nose! 

Hector.  Splendid! 

Protocopoli.  And  as  for  hair — (He  lifts  off  his 
toupee,  disclosing  a  bald  head.) 

[  101  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

Hector.  You  are  a  trump,  Cavaliere ;  you  are  a  Tro- 
jan. {To  the  rest.)  Put  the  bloody  robe  on  the  Apos- 
tle immediately. 

Giusti.  And  I? 

Frescobaldi.  And  I? 

Donato.  And  I? 

Hector.  The  doge's  costumes,  of  course.  The  ponti- 
fex  maximus  must  have  been  at  the  funeral,  and  prae- 
tors and  aediles.  {They  dress  the  Apostles  up.  Their  cos- 
tumes are  grotesque  and  agreeable  pieces  qf  idiocy.  To 
Protocopoli.)  Step  up  here,  Cavaliere.  {Places  Protoco- 
j)oli  recumbent  upon  the  chest.) 

Protocopoli.  This  is  the  most  enchanting  sport  I 
ever  had  in  my  life. 

Hector.  Now  then,  we  are  off!  Shylock,  stand  here. 
Jews  of  course  were  in  the  audience.  Othello ! — Moors, 
of  course,  too. — Giacomo! — Fools  of  course,  always. 
{To  Sarragossa.)  Now,  old  fellow,  go  ahead. — One 
moment!  {To  all.)  When  he  says  "to  bury  Caesar," 
— all  of  you  give  a  sort  of  low  wailing  roar. 

Sarragossa.  "Friends,  Romans  and  countrymen, 
lend  me  your  ears: 
I  come  to  bury  Caesar"  —  {All  groan.) 

[  102  ] 


ACT  FOURTH 

Enter  Contessa  and  Abbe. 

Contessa.  What  is  this  caterwauhng  ?  Mercy !  Who 

is  that? 

(JProtocopoli  has  assumed  a  sitting  posture  in  the 
tomb.) 

Abbe.  It  is  another  bandit,  madame.  He  has  intro- 
duced a  whole  gang  of  them. 

Contessa.  Prince,  what  are  these  doings  in  my  house? 

Hector  {to  the  actors).  Wait!  Keep  your  places  all. 
It's  a  coup  de  theatre. 

Contessa.  Protocopoli!  Giusti, — Frescobaldi! 

Hector.  Forgive  them,  Contessa, — a  charade.  Had 
you  waited  three  minutes  more  we  should  have  re- 
ceived you  as  Christians.  (To  the  actors.)  Now  for  in- 
termission. {They  break  up  and  circulate,  all  talMng 
at  once.  To  Co/i^^55a.)  A  thousand  pardons  for  taking 
liberties  with  your  drawing-room. 

Protocopoli  {to  Contessa).  I  could  not  resist.  It  is 
the  most  rejuvenating  piece  of  nonsense. 

Giusti.  After  all,  apostles  ought  to  attend  funerals. 

Contessa.  But,  Sarragossa,  your  uniform  is  too  small. 

Sarragossa.  I  could  not  wait  to  have  it  enlarged. 

Ccnitessa.  Well,  I  forgive  you.  And  now,  Prince,  I 
must  have  a  talk  with  you.  ( They  sit  down  together  at 

[   103  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

left  front  of  stage.)  Your  note  was  a  surprise  to  me. 

Lucia  {coming'  up).  Oh,  auntie,  we  have  had  such  fun. 
I  never  knew  what  talented  people  we  all  were.  {Aside 
to  Hector.)  Hippolito  wants  to  speak  to  you.  {To  Abbe 
who  has  come  up.)  Ah,  Abbe,  I  wish  you  could  have 
been  here. 

Abbe.   Too    old,   signorina,   and  you  would  have 

made  me  play  the  villain,  I  fear. 

{Hector  has  risen  at  Lucid! s  approach^  and^  as  he  ex- 
cuses himself,  the  Abbe  takes  his  seat.) 

Hector.  One  moment,  dear  madame.  {Lucia  joins 
Giacomo,  who  is  approaching.) 

Contessa  {to  Abbe).  Again  you  were  wrong,  Abbe. 
It  is  a  most  innocent  and  charming  scene. 

A  bbe.  The  end  is  not  yet.  Some  calamity  is  impending. 

Contessa.  Nonsense,  Abbe. 

{Sarragossa  joins  the  Contessa  and  Abbe.  Hippolito, 
who  has  before  entered  and  whispered  to  Lucia,  now 
approaches  Hector,  who  is  at  the  right  front  of  the 
stage,  and  hands  a  note.  Lucia  and  Giacomo  are 
making  conversation  to  each  other  a  few  feet  away, 
but  are  on  pins  and  needles  to  see  the  note.) 

Hector  {in  a  stage  whisper  after  reading  7iote,  to  Lu- 
cia and  Giacomo).  Hallelujah!  a  challenge.  They  have 
flown  to  Venice.  The   cup  of  my  happiness  is  full. 

[  104  ] 


ACT   FOURTH 

Lucia,  I  could  embrace  you!  Giacomo,  I  love  you. 
Hush!  Call  them  all  about  me  and  I  will  explain 
everything. 

Hippolito.  Pardon,  sir,  the  police. 

Hector.  What  police? 

Hippolito.  The  police  that  surround  the  house.  {Hec- 
tor does  not  understand.)  The  police  you  and  Signor 
Bobo  ordered  to  surround  the  house. 

Hector.  Merciful  powers  of  heaven!  I  forgot  the 
police. 

Hippolito.  You  see,  sir,  I  could  not  help  it.  The 
ladder  stands,  thus — they  get  down,  thus — behold  the 
police !  Signor,  signor,  I  could  do  nothing.  The  police 
took  them  in  the  alley  like  doves  or  lost  children.  They 
are  bringing  them  about  to  the  front  door.  Signor,  — 
signor ! 

Hector  (to  Giacomo  and  Lucia).  This  is  terrible. 
What  shall  we  do.? 

Giacomo.  Terrible?  Not  a  bit.  You  are  a  manager; 
but  you  are  about  to  witness  a  scene  not  on  the  pro- 
gramme. That  is  all.  Take  a  front  seat  and  laugh. 

Hector.  But  the  police, — but — but — you  know  I 
have  engagements  this  afternoon.  I  told  Lucia  I  might 
have  to  leave  early. 

[   105] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Giacomo.  Nerves  gone?  But  hush,  it  is  coming. 

{Many  voices  are  heard  in  the  corridor.  The  hubbub 
increases.  The  doors  at  centre  back  of  stage  are 
thrown  open,  and  enter  a  guardian  of  the  peace, 
conducting  Teleliy  and  Angela,  both  in  considerable 
disarray  due  to  rapid  change  of  costume  and  to  tlie 
scaling  of  the  wall.  Angelds  hair  is  about  her 
shoulders.  She  shotos  a  tendency  to  hang  upon  Tel- 
eky,  who  looks  sheepish  enough.  The  doors  remain 
cypen,  showing  more  police  in  the  corridor.) 
Contessa.  Angela,  in  the  name  of  Heaven!  Hector! 
Abbe !  What  has  happened  ? 

Abbe.  It  is  as  I  predicted.  {Points  to  Teleky.)  Be- 
hold the  malefactor! 

Contessa.  Angela,  my  darling  Angela!  What  has 
happened?  Speak,  somebody,  and  tell  me!  Prince  Tel- 
eky !  Sarragossa!  Tell  me  what  it  is!  I  feel  as  if  I  were 
going  to  faint.  Oh,  help  me,  somebody! 

Sarragossa  {in  a  deep  voice).  I  am  near  you,  Teresa. 
Abbe.  Put  your  confidence  in  me,  signora. 
Julia  {without).  There  is  an  impostor  in  this  house ! 
Bring  me  to  him !  I  have  tracked  him  here  I  He  can- 
not escape  me.  The  impostor,  the  impostor!  {Enter 
Julia  at  the  back.)  Where  is  Hector  Bononcini? 

{Now  from  the  moment  that  her  voice  has  been  heard, 
Hector  has  been  seized  with  visible  agitation,  and 

[106] 


ACT  FOURTH 

just  before  Julia's  entry,  he  has  taken  refuge  under 
the  harpsichord,  where  he  now  crouches.) 

Abbe  (stepping  forzaard  and  pointing  to  Telekt/). 

There  is  Hector  Bononcini. 

Jidia.  That!  That  is  not  Hector  Bononcini. 

Contessa  (in  a  faint  voice).  Save  me,  Rinaldo. 

(She  faints.  As  she  does  so,  both  Sarragossa  and  the 
Abbe  spring  to  save  her,  and  she  falls  between  them, 
Sarragossa  getting  rather  the  better  position  and 
continuing  to  fight  off  the  Abbe,  while  he  himself 
soothes  the  prostrate  Countess.) 

Sarragossa.  Teresa,  my  darling  one,  open  your  eyes. 
It  is  your  Rinaldo. — Keep  off,  you  infernal  brute,  you 
have  killed  her  with  your  machinations. — My  sweet 
poppet,  my  pet  lamb,  look  up ! — Water,  you  fool !  Bring 
water! — (He  is  stroking  her  brow.)  It  is  your  Rinaldo. 
(Someone  has  given  the  A  bbe  a  glass  of  tvater,  which 
he  is  proffering;  but  Sarragossa,  zvith  his  face  close  to 
the  Contessa' s,  fights  off  the  Abbe  zoithout  looking  at 
him,  and  knocks  the  glass  from  his  hand.)  Keep  off,  you 
ruffian,  how  dare  you ! 

Abbe  (wiping  the  water  from  his  clothes).  1  bide  my 
time. 

( While  this  is  going  on  Julia  has  advanced  to  the 
front  of  the  stage,  looking  about.) 

[  107  ]. 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM  BOLOGNA 

Jtilia.  Where  is  he?  Show  him  to  me!  I  know  he  is 

here! 

{Hector  has  Jled  from  under  the  harpsichord  and  is 
at  the  door.) 

Hector.  Let  me  out !  Let  me  out !  (He  is  turned  back 
hy  the  police^ 

Jidia.  Ah,  tra/tre,  scelerat!  I  have  you  now!  (She 
makes  for  him.) 

Hector.  For  the  love  of  Heaven,  Protocopoh,  seize 
her — she  is  a  mad  woman!  Giusti!  My  dear  Giusti! 
Hold  her  while  I  explain,  (TJie  two  Apostles  lay  hold 
ofJidia.) 

Julia.  Let  me  go,  or  I'll  rattle  your  teeth,  you  old 

harlequins !  (She  struggles.) 

Hector.  Have  you  got  her  fast? 

Protocopoli.^ 

\  Safe,  signor. 
Giusti.  J 

Hector  (mounts  on  a  chair  on  the  farther  side  of  the 
harpsichord.  The  Contessa  has  come  to  her  senses). 
Listen,  my  friends:  'tis  true  that  I  am  Hector. 
My  Aunt  Teresa,  listen.  It  is  I, 
Your  nephew  Hector;  and  this  lady  here 
4s  Julia,  my  affianced,  lovely  bride. 

Jidia.  Ah,  hypocrite!  (Struggles.) 

[  108  ] 


ACT  FOURTH 

Protocopoli.       Make  haste,  signer;  for  she  is  strong, 
And  we  are  old. 

Hector.  My  loved  and  darling  wife. 

Julia.  Devil! 

Hector.  Prince  Teleky,  your  almost  royal  name 
Has,  in  this  cause,  been  used  to  help  your  suit, 
And  when  you  understand  you  will  forgive  me. 
{To  Contessa.)  Give  me  the  letter.  Countess,  that  I 

wrote, 
Asking  the  hand  of  your  sweet  Angela 
For  Stephen  Teleky. 

{The  Countess  produces  the  letter  from  her  reticule, 
and  it  is  handed  across  the  stage  to  Hector.) 
This  letter  will  explain  us  to  ourselves. 
Julia  shall  read  it  first.  Nay,  hold  her  hands, 
Or  she  will  tear  it.  Yes,  the  hand  is  mine. 
But  mark  the  signature.  {Pointing.)  The  Prince,  my 

friend, 
Was  used  by  fate  through  me.  It  is  not  I, 
But  he,  that  seeks  to  wed  sweet  Angela; 
And  in  his  name  again  I  give  the  note 
Back  to  my  aunt,  the  Countess.  (  The  note  is  handed  back.) 

Jtdia  {to  Hector).  You  are  mine? 

Hector.  Yours  and  yours  always ;  yours  to  have  and 

hold. 

[  109  ] 


A  SAUSAGE  FROM   BOLOGNA 

Yours  in  this  enterprise,  from  first  to  last. 

{To  Protocopoli  andGiusti.)  Release  her,  signors;  she 

is  tractable. 

{Julia  and  Hector  embrace.  Hector  now  speaks  while 
Julia  hangs  repentant  on  his  heart.) 

Much  must  be  said  and  done  ere  all  the  knots 

Are  ravelled  from  this  tangled  history. 

But 't  is  a  joyous,  happy-ending  farce 

To  four  of  us.  Stephen,  I  will  subscribe 

The  whole  sky  over  with  apologies. 

And  make  them  good  with  fact.  Forgive  me  now, 

And  later  you  shall  know  the  reasons  why. 

{Hector  and  Telelcy  shake  hands.) 

My  Aunt  Teresa,  you  forgive  me  too?  {Kneels.) 

Hippolito.  It  is,  it  is,  signora!  It  is  Hector, 
My  little  Hector. 

Contessa.  Ah,  I  feel  it  is, 

And  do  accept  him  {kisses  him).  Angela,  my  child 

{kisses  her). 
{To  Teleky.)  And  you,  good  friend,  I  ever  did  accept 
Under  Avhatever  name. 

{A  movement  at  the  door.  Enter  an  officer  of  the  po- 
lice pushing  before  him  Matteo,  whom  he  holds  hy 
the  shoulder  with  his  left  hand,  while,  with  his  rights 
he  holds  aloft  the  remains  of  Fifi.) 

[  110] 


ACT  FOURTH 

All.  Fifi! 

Contessa.  Fifi,  my  darling  Fifi!  {Takes  the  dog.) 

Officer.  Found  in  this  man's  possession! 

{General  consternation.) 
A  voice.  The  Abbe's  servant! 
Officer.  Skulking  in  disguise, 
Hippolito  {with  accusing  vehemence).  Where  is  the 

necklace  ? 
Ahhe.  Matteo,  be  calm. 

Where  did  you  find  that  object? 

Officer.  Ah,  indeed! 

Matteo.  I  found  it  in  the  street. 

Ahhe.  He  found  it  in  the  street. 

Many  voices.  Where  is  the  necklace? 

Matteo  {shrugs).  I  cannot  say. 

Ahhe.  Let  him  be  searched.  {Officer  searches  Matteo.) 

Officer.  Nothing,  signora. 

Matteo  {shrugs).  It  was  not  there! 

{Commotion^  and  cries  of  '"'■Stranger  ^'■The  ras- 
cal r  S^c.) 

Sarragossa.  In  catching  thieves  it  is  the  wiser  plan 
To  search  the  master  when  you  catch  the  man. 

Contessa.  Sarragossa,  you  amaze  me.  Pray  be  silent. 

[  111  ] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

Sarragossa.  Can  I  be  longer  silent?  I  have  seen 
A  pilferer  at  work  for  many  months, 
A  petty  pope  of  intrigue,  and  a  knave. 

Abhe.  Madame,  protect  me.  I  am  innocent. 

Sarragossa.  Let  him  be  searched! 

{Consternation.  Everyone  talks  at  once.) 

Giacomo  (aside  to  Abbe).  Abbe,  submit;  for  if  you 
have  it  not. 
Your  enemies  are  damned. 

Abbe.  Must  I  expose 

The  private  little  trifles  in  my  pocket.? — 
My  own  affairs?  It  is  a  degradation. 

Giacomo  {confidentially).  Have  you  the  necklace? 

AbU.'^ol 

Giacomo.  Submit,  and  triumph.  The  rest  is  laughter. 

Abbe  {to  all).  Search  me!  {Sensation.) 

Officer.  Ajutante!  {The  adjutant  comes  forward^  the 
officer  seating  himself  at  a  table  with  pen  and  pa- 
per.) Ready! 

Ajutante  {producing  articles  from  Abbes  pocket). 
Right  side! — A  snuif-box.  A  piece  of  green  seal- 
ing wax. 

A  voice.  The  Contessa's  wax. 

Contessa.  Ah,  Abbe,  you  are  welcome  to  it. 

[    112   ] 


ACT  FOURTH 

Ajutante.  Two  dried  prunes.  {Laughter.)  A  thimble. 

{Laughter.) 
Sarragossa.  Do  you  sew,  Abbe.? 
Ajutante.  A  yard  of  blue  ribbon. 
A  voice.  It  is  a  magpie's  nest! 
Ajutante.  Four  cakes  of  chocolate. — Left  side! 
Giacomo.  Courage,  Abbe,  this  is  nothing  but  gaiety. 

Ajutante.  A  newspaper  scrap.  Ah?  ah !  ah-h !  What's 
this  ?  {Produces  the  necMace.  Shouts  and  groans^ 
hisses,  laughter,  wild  disturbance  and  cries  of 
''ShameT) 

Abbe.  I  am  innocent. 

Contessa.  O  Abbe,  Abbe,  how  could  you  do  it! 

Abbe.  I  am  innocent! 

Officer.  Shall  I  arrest  him,  Contessa? 

Sarragossa.  No,  my  Teresa,  let  us  not  beat  down 

A  falling  reputation.  He  is  punished. 

It  were  unchristian  to  pursue  him  more. 

{Murmurs  of  approval :  ^^  Noble, ^''  "  The  gallant  gen- 
tleman;' "J  heart  of  gold;'  S^c.  To  Abbe.) 

Abbe,  I  loved  thee  not,  yet  thy  disgrace 

Drags  sorrow  from  an  eye  unused  to  flow.  {He  operates 

his  handkerchief.) 

My  friends,  my  friends,  we  must  be  merciful, 

[  113] 


A  SAUSAGE   FROM   BOLOGNA 

Keeping  our  hearts  still  tender.  Time  may  bring 

Some  mitigating  circumstance  to  light 

To  make  us  bless  forbearance.  Which  of  us 

Could  stand  to  have  his  inmost  pockets  picked 

Without  a  sense  of  shame  ?  Prince  Teleky, 

You  have  been  guilty  of  some  trickery 

To  win  your  Angela.  And,  Hector,  you 

Have  dipped  your  soul  in  lies  for  Julia's  sake. 

I  cannot  say  what  Giacomo  has  done 

Beyond  his  daily  stint  of  knavery 

For  his  Lucia's  sake,  but  surely  something. — 

Why  should  I  shame  to  say  it?  I  myself, 

To  win  a  woman,  almost  lost  my  soul. 

Abbe,  your  hand! 

Contessa,  Rinaldo,  you  are  right! 

And  each  of  us  has  learned  a  page  of  love 
Out  of  a  book  of  sorrows.  Angela, 
Your  griefs  have  blossomed  in  four  man'iages. 
It  all  grew  out  of  you.  Speak  the  last  word. 

Angela.  I  am  too  happy  yet  to  speak  at  all. 

The  End 


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